Inside the Criminal's Mind (A Michael Jackson Fanfic)

Ave Maria

Urania

A whole week has gone past since the kitchen incident and Michael hasn't touched me. He's been acting somewhat...nice... I don't know what to make of it. He'd come home from work, smile at me, we'd eat dinner then he'd say "goodnight" and go to his room. I'm not complaining though. I wanted to talk to him today. Because for the past week all we've been saying to each other is "good night" because he left early in the morning and came late at night.

I take a shower and wear my pyjama shorts and a tank top. My hair was wet because I was leaving it to air-dry. I  went down the stairs and into the kitchen to make sure the food was warm because he could walk in at any moment now. I cooked today. I gave the chef a day off.

As I was getting out of the kitchen, in through the door he walks.

"Hi Michael." I smile at him running my arm up and down. Something I do when I'm nervous.

"Hi." He said, shocked that I initiated a conversation with him. He stands there awkwardly not knowing what to do next.

"How was work?" I took a step towards him. I don't really know what his job is. I just ask to be polite.

"It was fine I guess. Yeah... It was alright." He says looking deep into my souls as if to try and find a motive for my talkative behaviour this evening.

Not letting another awkward moment seep in I quickly said: "I'm keeping to food warm in the oven. Why don't you go shower while I set the table."

"Sounds good to me." He says walking towards the stairs. Then looking back at me mid-way, and turning back once he realises I was still looking.

30 minutes later he comes out dressed in his PJs and sits on the dining table with me. He watches me place his plate in front of him and walk back to my own seat. Just before I dug into my food he announces:

"Let's say grace." That's new. I didn't even think he knew God exists.

"Okay."

He reaches out for my hands and holds them in his large ones. His touch shook my entire being. I don't know why... I'm probably just intimidated.

"Our Father," He begins. "Who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done on Earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us, and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen."

"Amen." And so we began eating. For the first five minutes only the sounds of our silverware dancing with the plate was heard. I could feel his eyes burning holes through me. But then he broke the silence.

"The food is really nice." A puzzled expression invited itself to my face. And he noticed.

"The Chef called me to tell me that you gave her the day off. I figured you cooked the food?"

"Yes... I did. Thank you." He smiles. "Can I ask you a question?" I asked hesitantly.

"You just did but go ahead." He smirks.

"What kind of job do you do?" I finally put my silverware down and gave him all my attention.

"I run my father's record company. Well it's mine now because I inherited it after my father retired." He goes quiet but I was determined to get more out of him.