Rock With You: A Love Story

ur mine

November 15, 1987
Belle's POV

As the taxi rolls down the road, I begin to see what all the posters being held up say on them.

"Belle Jackson To Be"
"Welcome to the Family"
"Mr & Mrs Jackson"
"Make way for the king and queen!"

"I can't believe this." Michael's eyes stayed fixated on the fans out the tinted windows. "I don't know whether to be annoyed or happy."
"Well, we cant go back so we might as well be happy. They're supporting us, they could be saying a lot worse." I try to reassure Michael...and myself. As the submerging view out the window fills with more posters of cartoon diamond rings, I get a sense of relief. We don't have to go through the awkward stage of telling our families, so I guess I should appreciate that and just be happy I'm marrying this magnificent man.
We pull up outside a stretched glass hotel, finally free of paparazzi as we swerved down all the hidden routes.
"Here we are guys." The driver says with a cocky tone.
"Thanks. Did...did you tell anyone about our engagement? Just wondering." Michael says as he fixes his curls around his face.
"Me? Of course not." He returns, raising his eyebrows with artificial sincerity.
"Hm." Michael slides out of the little taxi in front of me, as I follow behind him.
"Bye, B." The driver says quickly as Michael is now out the taxi.
"B?" I scoff.
"Belle, then." He whips the grunting engine on angrily, with a slight evil smile.
I shake it off and take Michael's delicate hand as we stride into the hotel lobby. I feel Michael begin to shake slightly, he's probably worried about the press. Although it is always trash and he's somewhat used to it, it would affect anyone in his position.
"We're in this together, ok baby?" I squeezing his hand as I feel his body begin to relax slightly.
"Love you." He kisses my temple as we carry on walking.

"Michael and Belle Jackson!" The receptionist exclaims, I guess he was expecting us. He stands up, revealing his royal blue suit and tie as he gives us an excitable wave.
"Not yet." I chuckle slightly. I know Michael isn't in the right mindset to make small talk, so I take the role.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. How are you guys?" He sits back down on his swivel chair behind a chunky computer and white desk.
"Good, Good. Just tired, do you have the room ready?" I smile nervously. It feels weird to take such a 'diva' role, I'm still not used to having any sense of importance to the general public.
Michael continues to stand behind me shyly, his eyes fixed on the floor as he twiddles his feet.
"Yes, 602. The Princess Suite!" He grins proudly and hands us a small silver jay with a large blue keychain. "Will you need guidance to you're room?"
"No, I think we'll be okay. But thank you so much." I take the key politely as I lead Michael and I down towards the elevator.
"Thank you." Michael whispers, acknowledging how I did all the talking for him.
"It's nothing, baby. C'mon, we have a fancy room waiting for us." We step in the metallic elevator and I push in the floor number. The ceiling of this lift is painted beautifully like the Sistine Chapel, I admire the delicacy.
"Wow. That's beautiful." Michael points his finger to the ceiling, not realising I had been staring at it the whole time.
Art is something Michael truly appreciates. He's so passionate about it that it could almost never fail to lift his mood or distract him. I mentally thank God for this hotels beautiful art, as it brought a smile across my boyfriends face.
"You're beautiful, M." I place my hand on his shoulder as he pulls me tightly into a hug. His arms hold me with such a protective force, I smile into his chest while I breathe in his masculine, heavenly scent. God, I still can't believe this is my boyfriend. I never will.
"I can't believe you're my girlfriend." He never fails to reads my mind flawlessly.
"I was just thinking that about you." I exhale happily, my fingers clutching his coat.