Wait For You - 'Look After You' Sequel - A Michael Jackson Fanfiction

Chapter 18

Michael
-

The drive was quiet.

She didn't say a word, eyes fixed out the window while the city blurred past in gray streaks.

Halfway through, she spoke.
"Can we stop by my place?"

"No."

"I need clothes, Michael."

"You'll get them."

"I mean real clothes. Not whatever Ramon grabs. Those clothes are cheap."

I glanced over, holding back a smile. "You want to walk into a house that might be watched?"

Her jaw tensed. "It's my house."

"Not tonight, it's not."

She let out a short, tired laugh. "So what, you're deciding that now too?"

"Already decided."

She didn't answer, just crossed her arms and leaned back against the seat.
Her silence filled the car like static.

When I pulled up to the curb, her porch light was still on. The windows looked dark, untouched. No movement. Still, I didn't trust it.

"Ohhh, I thought you weren't gonna take me—"

"Stop. I'll go," I said, already opening my door.

"Michael—"

"You step out of this car, and I'll put you back in myself."

She glared but stayed put, fingers drumming against the dashboard.

Inside, the house was minimal, but lived in.

Stillness and perfume. A book left open on the counter. Her keys tossed carelessly by the sink.

I grabbed the first suitcase I saw and started filling it. Tops. Jeans. A jacket. A few things from the dresser.

Didn't think twice, just grabbed what looked clean and folded.

When I got to her underwear drawer, I didn't hesitate. A few sets. A red lace one. Tossed in. Zipped the bag. Done.

I locked up behind me and went back to the car.

Evelyn was still staring straight ahead. Her voice was low when she asked, "You find everything?"

"Got enough to get you through a week."

Her eyes flicked toward the bag, then back to the window. "That was fast."

"I wasn't sightseeing."

——————

The hotel lobby was nearly empty when we walked in, low light, the kind of silence that made every heel click echo.

She didn't speak until we reached the elevator.

"You didn't have to do that."

"Yes, I did."

"Because you said so?"

"Because you'd be dead if I didn't."

The elevator chimed. She didn't reply.

Upstairs, I set her bag down beside the bed. She opened it, brows lifting slightly as she rummaged through.

She held up the red lace with two fingers, her expression unreadable.

"Really?"

"It was in the drawer."

"You could've picked anything else."