"To give someone a piece of your heart is worth more than all the wealth in the world."
Escape from reality with romantic, cute and sometimes funny stories about you and the one and only Michael Jackson. All imagines are solely written by myself, en...
A/N: This is just a short note to clear a couple of things up, as this is a holiday themed imagine. I've always been wary about writing any imagines specifically about this time of year, largely out of respect for Michael and his faith. However, this year I think everyone needs cheering up, and I set about writing this with minimal reference to Christmas and the usual festivities of such. I think I've done a good job at keeping the storyline respectful in this way, and hope you do too.
I hope you enjoy the plethora of '70s fluff to come in this imagine- here's The Perfect Gift!
1979
A cool, crisp waft of December air welcomes you out into the frosty, yet perfectly pleasant, winter atmosphere. You allow your eyelids to relax and close for a second, partly to shield your sensitive eyes from the blinding sunlight that reflects off the silvery snow. Mostly, though, it is an opportunity to pause, reflect and give thanks for the heaven of the present moment.
As you reinstate your sense of sight, you witness several figures rambunctiously running ahead of you from behind where you stand, two of them colliding and ending up in a snowy heap, mild exclamations of annoyance and profanity filling the air immediately after.
You can't help giggling at the scene, sparkling clouds of cool air flowing from your lips, disappearing almost as soon as they appear. You make a conscious effort to halt your laughter for the moment, as every puff of freezing cold air disturbs your view of the lush nature before you, touched by nothing but the plush blanket of snow gently resting on the grass, fur tree branches and rolling mountains off in the far distance.
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"It's beautiful, huh?" a soft voice chuckles from beside you, another puff of winter air appearing in your line of vision, "except for those boneheads, over there."
You need not guess to whom the voice belonged, but turn your face up towards its source anyway; once you do, the sight you're met with is even more spectacular than the snowy landscape you have just been admiring.
You're met by the gleaming smile of your best friend, Michael, and it's just the sort of smile that you can't help but mirror. While you laugh along with him at the idiocy of his brother's antics, you feel yourself getting lost in his sparkling cocoa orbs that perfectly provide a warm contrast to your winter surroundings.
Despite your best efforts, you had never been able to brush away the enamoured feelings you had for Michael, who had been by your side for exactly half your life now. Childhood affection had slowly but surely blossomed into a more mature infatuation, one from which there was no turning back or recovering.
Your family had been friends with the Jacksons ever since they moved to Encino some years ago now. Currently, both your families were taking your annual vacation to the Canadian Rockies. You yourself hadn't been blessed with a group of siblings to call your own, or a confident disposition for that matter, and so the novelty of having nine potential friends appear across the street on one fateful winter day all those years ago was surely a thrill.
