Sex Instructor (A Michael Jackson Fan Fiction)

Chapter 29: Cold-Blooded

Author's Note: While being very busy with my personal life every time I went to write the chapter I hesitated where to go from there because I needed to take Angel's and Michael's individual stories into consideration as well as their "relationship" so I can mash up a slow burn, I didn't want to rush things but character development was also needed. Anyways...after all this writer talk 😟 I hope you beautiful people enjoy this chapter and you best believe many more are to come. 💜

⚠️ WARNING!!: THIS CHAPTER INCLUDES MENTIONS OF UNDERAGE DRINKING AND PARTYING, PLEASE DO NOT ATTEMPT THIS IF YOU ARE UNDER 21+ YEARS OF AGE, AND SKIP IF YOU DONT FEEL COMFORTABLE READING!!

*Angel's POV*

"Pardon?"

"My birthday party...umm it's my birthday this weekend and I'm doing a party in my house. A lot of people are coming, people that I barely know in fact." I roll my eyes thinking of Scarlet's eager eyes while making the guest list.

"And....you're asking me to go?"

"Yes..." I let my gaze linger on the roof.

"You know dollface, one of the man's most vulnerable states are right after sex, meaning they can be persuaded really easy. I'm feeling rather violated-..."

"Michaelll," I giggled loudly at his witty remarks as he reciprocated the chuckles beside me. "just answer." I watched him roll off me carefully and lay on his side, head resting on his palm. His cheeky expression swiftly changing into a more serious one.

"Dollface, you know we can't really meet for anything personal outside of our classes." Michael's eyes found mine exactly at the same time mine shied away.

"Yeah...number six, 'no looking for each other'." I murmured under my breath, even though I knew he could hear me perfectly.

"So you've really memorized them word by word?" He let out a dry laugh, with a hint of awkwardness.

But he's never awkward? Oh god please no, I hate awkwardness.

"The rules? Well I reckoned the faster I memorized them the easier they'll be to follow." I muttered softly and let my fingers play with one of the fabric bracelets on my wrist.

A pair of slow seconds passed and both of us sighed at the same time. Trying to expulse any molecule of discomfort out into the far atmosphere. When we realized our synchronization a tiny giggle fluttered in sound waves, this time not awkward, a genuine one.

"Will there be adults at this party?" Michael asked with his eyes set on the delicate circles I traced on his forearm with the pad of my finger.

"There will ONLY be adults. No minors allowed was the first rule we set. I just wanted to have a fun night with semi-mature people." My eyes rolled at the memories of trashy sophomore parties my friends always forced me to go to. Irresponsible and reckless decisions were the only thing those parties were about, in fact students went to them solely for the purpose of making bad decisions. 'It's sophomore year, what better time to make mistakes than this?' they said. But to some of us mistakes aren't only breaking your mom's favorite plate collection or accidentally breaking the vase your grandma's ashes were poured in. For some of us, mistakes last forever in the subconscious, a rope of trauma being tied onto our limbs in the finest knot. Irreversible. 

"Listen," Michael looked at the roof while speaking, "I can't promise you anything. But I'll see what I can do. Don't get any ideas." He side-eyed me and I tried to contain my smile. But there was no use.