Inheritance [Michael Jackson FanFiction]

Chapter 11

As the first light of dawn filtered through the curtains, I stirred in my bed, feeling the warmth of the morning sun on my face. With a grumble, I squinted at the rude awakening. It felt like I had just closed my eyes moments ago.

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I gradually became aware of the empty room. The armchair he sat on last night seemed to be untouched as the cushions were neatly arranged.

Throwing off the covers, I swung my legs over the side of the bed, the cool wooden floor sending a shiver up my spine. As I padded across the room, the sunbeams danced around me, casting long shadows against the walls.

Reaching the wash basin, I splashed some water on my face, feeling the refreshing coolness awaken my senses. The thought of a warm bath crossed my mind. It would be great after all this travelling.

Glancing towards the door, I noticed Michael's satchel still hanging there, which was a reassuring sign of his presence. Despite his absence from the room, the sight of his belongings provided a sense of comfort, easing the thought of him leaving in the middle of the night.

Where could he have gone so early in the morning?

With a sigh, I pushed aside my worries and decided to make use of his absence. As I rummaged through my clothes, my eyes fell upon the new dress I had purchased just the other day.

It was a denim blue, with some lace trim around the neckline, giving it a touch of charm. There wasn't any fancy belt cinching the waist, just a simple leather one with a small buckle. It fell to my ankles, swaying with each step, and it had pockets in case Michael tried to judge its practicality.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I smoothed down the dress, relishing the feel of the fabric between my fingers. Each stroke reminded me of the comforts of my old home, the bustling energy of New York City, and the carefree life I once took for granted.

Lost in the moment, I closed my eyes briefly, allowing myself to imagine the sounds of the city streets, the scent of freshly brewed coffee, and the sight of familiar faces passing by. For a fleeting instant, I was taken back to a time when worries seemed distant and possibilities endless.

The sound of the door opening interrupted my daydream, and Michael entered, carrying a tray of baked goods and coffee.

We lock eyes as his expression shifts to surprise at the sight of me standing there. His eyebrows furrowed slightly as he looked up and down my body.

"Grace," he said, his tone cautious. "I didn't expect you to be up yet."

I offered a half-smile in return "Why didn't you wake me up?" I ask shrugging, as he walks past me into the room.

He set the tray down on the table, the clatter of crockery breaking the silence. "Sorry," he said, pouring coffee into two mugs. "Thought you could use a bit of extra rest."

I nodded in acknowledgement, accepting the cup. "How are you feeling? You know .. after last night."

He chuckled, though it seemed forced. "Feels like I've been trampled by a herd of cattle."

I nodded with a hint of sympathy in my gaze.  "I can only imagine," I replied, my tone soft.

"You uh ... you look great." He stammered, gesturing towards my dress as he pinched the tip of his nose

"I thought you'd be reminding me that we're not attending a 'fancy gala' out here," A smirk played at the corner of my lips as I quoted his words, teasing him.

He chuckled, this time it seemed genuine as a faint smile spread on his lips. "Fair point," he replied, raising an eyebrow. "Come on, let's eat."

We settled by the table, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries filling the air as we began to enjoy our breakfast. Despite the earlier banter, a comfortable silence settled between us, broken only by the occasional clink of utensils