When she woke up, Michael was asleep. His arms were wrapped tightly around her, his lips resting against her temple as he breathed softly. Her head pounded slightly, but relaxed at the sight of him. He was still there, just like he told her he would be. A tiny, almost undetectable smile graced her lips, and her hand traveled to his face. She wasn't sure what time it was, but the outpost was silent. Candles flickered, creating an orange glow upon his skin. He looked at total peace, his stress lines no longer visible.
It made her wonder just what exactly was going on in his head. What did he think of all this? Of course, she knew if she were to ask, he wouldn't tell her. He typically never talked about his feelings, always putting hers first. And when he did, they were usually screaming at each other.
She almost giggled at the thought, thinking of the fights they had in the past. They hadn't argued much, but when they did, it was practically a war zone. Her finger traced his cheek bone, the soft feeling of his marble skin making her fall into a warm trance. His hair was shiny and soft, his lips pink and slightly parted as he breathed. He had always told her how beautiful she was, but he was also unbelievably beautiful. The word didn't even begin to cover it. He was like an angel, her little fallen angel.
She had spent many nights alone in that bed against the cool sheets, and now that he laid by her side, she knew she wouldn't be able to be alone again. The thought terrified her, because she knew she was already back in that same routine. He was her very lifeline, and the idea of him not loving her back or leaving her, almost made her throw up.
Her finger went to his nose, lightly tracing the shape of it and going down to his top lip. She was surprised that he didn't wake up, but she figured he was more exhausted than he let on. "You still love me, right?" She whispered, her eyes soft. He had told her that he did, but that was the old her. He loved the old her. Could he love the new one?
He was fast asleep, and she sighed as she removed her hand. She gently sat up, holding her head as she prepared for the headache that would haunt her for the day. His hand remained on her leg, and her eyes slowly glanced around her room. She hadn't really looked at it yet, and she swallowed as she remembered details of it in her mind.
There was the couch that Gallant always sat on when he was visiting her, which usually consisted of painting nails and gossiping. There she had her desk and little tray of candles. Her mirror and closet full of dresses, her books. Her eyes froze at the thought, and they widened when her eyes settled upon them.
Oh, God, her books.
She practically pounced off the bed, scurrying across the room as she clambered to the floor by her pile of books. There they were, neatly stacked together: Little Women, Pride and Prejudice, and The Great Gatsby. A huge, pearly smile molded onto her face, and she caressed the covers as she laughed quietly.
Before her memory had come back, those three books were practically the only thing that had kept her sane in the outpost. She had read them countless times, not remembering having read them before. She had always wondered who had given them to her, or how they had gotten there, for that matter. And it was all of her things, not just her books. When she had woken up to find Jack, she had no time to gather any of her things before the bombs went off. But when she arrived at her room in the outpost, there were several unfamiliar things. But now, as she sat on the hardwood floor, she now knew who had brought the books, and she smiled as she glanced back at him.
She turned back to them, bringing the pages of Little Women up to her nose as the old-timey smell hit her nose.
"Why are we here?" Michael asked, watching as she ran the tips of her fingers across several books.
"Because I wanted to smell the books!" She raised her chin at him, snatching a book in her hand.
He narrowed his eyes. "Smell?"
"Don't look at me like that, Langdon." She shook her head, placing a hand on his chest to push him onto the sofa that sat in the corner of the room. His eyes bugged up at her, and he awkwardly straightened himself as she plopped down beside him. "Here." She huffed, handing him the book.
He felt like an idiot as he hesitantly grabbed the book, flipping through the pages as he brought them up to his nose. He took an inhale as Ana kept a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. "Well?"
He rolled his eyes, snapping the book closed as he handed it back to her. "I don't smell anything."
Ana scoffed. "What! What do you mean?"
He leaned back against the couch, folding his arms across his chest. "It's a book. Books don't have a smell."
She laughed at the memory, moving to sit up on the couch as she sat her books in her lap. That time of her life had been so different, they had been different. Young. It was almost unreal, looking back and seeing how quickly in love they had fallen. Were they still like that now? She was, without a doubt. She still remained head over heels for him, even if he had changed. But what about her?
She brushed away the thought as she looked around the room, smiling again at her hairbrush on the nightstand. Three days ago, it was just a brush, but it held memories now. Her hand automatically went up to her hair, picturing the amount of times he had tried practicing braiding it.
But then, when her eyes landed on a small—frail notebook, her heart slowed. She stood up as she quietly made her way across the room, and her eyes grew wide as she sat at her desk. Fuck, she had forgotten about this. She flipped open the pages, her eyes scanning over the images she had drawn.
Her notebook was something she had taken with her almost everywhere she went, always jotting things down or drawing pictures that burned into her brain. She covered her mouth in shock, the images finally making sense to her. There was the playground, the place they had always met at after work. There was her room, or at least, small details of it. There were bits of flowers from when he had plucked them in her hair at the beach. There was a crescent moon that had once been ink on her shoulder. And then, the piano, which had been drawn multiple times. Her memories had tried cracking out of her, creating images in her head that wouldn't ever let her get a moments peace.
She had drawn what she felt like, and they hadn't made any sense. But now, they did, and a big sigh of relief left her lips that she didn't know she was holding. Names that started with M had been written multiple times, and she remembered the night her and Mallory had played their name game in hopes of triggering a memory in her head. The entirety of the book made sense now, and she felt her soul become lighter as she laid her head against the desk.
With the room making sense now, she felt her body slightly un-tense, and her stomach didn't feel quite as sick as it had. And it was amazing, too, how she had remembered small details of her life. Maybe Michael was right, perhaps she was completely stubborn.
"Ana?"
She jumped as she whirled around in her seat, holding a hand to her heart as she breathed. "Jesus Christ." She swallowed, relaxing at the sight of him on the bed.
He was sitting up, watching her with concerned eyes and golden hair that fell over his shoulder. "Are you alright?"
Was she alright? Well, she was most definitely better than yesterday. She smiled, making his eyes widen slightly as she grabbed her book. "I'm more than alright." She pounced on the bed in front of him, making him straighten. "Look!" She handed him the book, showing him different pictures. "I remember all of this now! And my books!" She pointed over to the them, pushing away her hair as she laughed to herself.
Her knees knocked again his, and she held his thighs with her hands as he looked at her book. He gave a smile, looking to her as he grabbed her hand. "That's wonderful, sweetheart." He hadn't expected to wake up to her so happy, and as his body adjusted to being awake, his smile deepened as he nodded. "Good. That's good, Anastasia." He kissed her forehead, placing the book down.
She gripped his chin as she sat on her ankles, smiling playfully. "Ana."
He smirked, his chest filling with warmth from her smiling face. "My apologies, Ana." He corrected, grabbing her own chin as he pulled her toward him. His lips went to hers, her smile against his as she moved closer to him. He could practically taste how happy she was right now, and he felt his stress melt away as he lowered her back against the sheets. He towered over her, grabbing her hand in his as their tongues moved together.
It was hard to doubt his love for her when he moved against her like that, and she released a content sigh as her leg curled around his. Her heart pounded, her lips parting as he moved to her neck. Her back arched into him, her stomach coiling together. But then, a knock sounded through the room, making them both jump and freeze on the spot.
"Aye, Ana! Let me in!" Gallant's voice rang through the door, making her eyes grow wide as he glared at the door.
"Shit." She muttered, swallowing as she looked up to him. "You need to hide!" She pushed him off of her, rather forcefully, and into the bathroom as she ruffled up her hair. She closed the door, giving him no time to argue as she made her way to the door of her room. She was almost hyper, believe it or not. Hyper on joy from the room that now made sense to her.
She smiled again, taking a breath as she opened the door. "Gallant." She nodded, her eyes settling on the finely dressed blonde.
"There you are!" He busted through the room, making her eyes grow wide as she shut the door. "I take it your dinner went well, considering I've not seen you in days." He smirked, plopping down on her couch as he folded one leg over the other.
She cleared her throat awkwardly, tucking a curl behind her ear. "Uh..yeah. Yeah, it went fine."
He cocked his brow, flexing his ringed hand. "Come on, babe. You gotta give me more than that. Did you blow him?" He leaned against his knees.
She choked on her breathe, causing him to laugh as she shook her head. "No! No, Gallant, I-" She blushed, knowing damn well Michael could hear every word being spoken.
"I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" He laughed, removing his purple shades. "Coco dared me to ask that. Though, I wouldn't blame you if you did. God knows it's been forever since any of us have had a good dicking." He complained, stretching out on the couch.
She cringed at his words, crossing her arms as she cleared her throat. "Is there..is there something you wanted? I was actually getting ready to take a bath." She lied, crossing her fingers.
He huffed, sending her an annoyed glare. "Nope. Just making sure you're alive. I figure you're trying to get yourself into the sanctuary," He began, standing as she widened her eyes. "Good luck is all I have to say. Coco's pissed and thinks you're sucking up to Langdon. Emphasis on the sucking." He leaned into her ear, patting her shoulder as he crossed the room. "You should come eat breakfast with us. Venable misses you." He smirked, waving his fingers as he exited the room.
She stood there shocked as he left, her mind processing the information he had given her in the span of thirty seconds. She remembered liking Gallant, but she didn't feel much for him now. She didn't hate him, and liked him more than she did Mallory, but his words made her feel more awkward since Michael could hear them.
And at the thought, he walked out of the bathroom as he straightened his black dinner jacket, Ana's eyes snapping over to him. "Quite the friend you have there." He smirked, making Ana blush.
"Don't tell me you heard all that." She cringed, embarrassment flooding her features.
His deepened smirk emitted a groan from her, and he stepped into the room as he approached her. "Now, now, no need to get yourself worked up. I thought you acted extremely charming at dinner." He wrapped his arms around her waist, her hands dropping to his chest as she smiled awkwardly.
"I was drunk." She remembered, gaining a nod from him.
"Yes, you were. Though, I don't get how. You only had two glasses, Ana." He shook his head, pushing her back against the desk as they both remembered the night.
She giggled while he smiled, her arms going around his neck as their lips attached again. Maybe she would be able to get through this without breaking down every five minutes. Her morning had started off extremely well, and she didn't feel any nerves as she pressed herself against him. She moaned into him, making him move faster as she sat up on the desk.
But then, again, Gallant's fist banged on the door. "Let's go, Grey!"
"Motherfucker." Ana growled, breaking apart their kiss as she glared at the door. Michael laughed, catching his breath as he smiled like an idiot. Maybe things wouldn't be so bad after all. He kissed her forehead, pulling her off the table as he fixed the strap on her dress. "Go to breakfast." He nodded to the door. "Socialize for the day and come find me later. Have dinner with me. No wine this time." He smirked, pulling away.
However, his smile faltered when he seen how nervous she had gotten, and he frowned as he tilted her chin up. "Hey, now," He rubbed her cheek. "There's no reason to be upset. You'll do just fine without me. I'll be around if you need me. I have interviews I need to do today." He spoke the words causally, hoping to make the situation seem less tense.
She brought her thumb up to bite, anxiety brewing in her stomach as she thought of socializing with her fellow roommates. She just couldn't think about it, otherwise her good mood would be entirely soiled. She gave a nod, removing her finger. "Okay." She whispered, giving a small smile.
He nodded back, kissing her nose as he brushed her cheek. "We'll talk tonight, okay? I'll give you answers, sweetheart." He told her gently, caressing her face.
She nodded, a lump in her throat as she grew sad. She didn't want to be without him for the day, but she kept in her tears. She had to control herself, she couldn't be crying all the time in front of him. How was he going to love her again if she kept breaking down? "Alright." She spoke meekly, her voice shaking slightly as he squeezed her hand.
She stayed in the room for awhile after he had left, preparing herself as she tried listing off all the residents of the building. For the most part, she remembered getting along with almost everyone, besides Coco and Venable, of course. When she stepped out into the hallways alone, she automatically searched the room for him, though she knew she wouldn't find him.
Perhaps she could sneak into his room and hide during his interviews? She brushed off the thought, humiliated by her ideas. That was ridiculous. She could certainly last one day without him. She didn't want too, but she could. However, as she walked down the dwindling staircase and further away from him, she felt her lifeline falter slightly.
She flinched as the residents poured in, taking their usual seats at the dining table. Ana felt unbelievably out of place, and she stood there awkwardly as Gallant tugged on her elbow. "Come on, sit with me." He lured her along with him. "Otherwise I'll have to hear Coco bitch the entire time."
She swallowed as she looked back up the stairs to where he disappeared, and she sat in her seat as she briefly made eye contact with Mallory. To Michael, her anxious behavior was extremely noticeable, but it wasn't to everyone else. They had gotten used to her silence, and she hoped that it remained intact as they all took their seats. A few glanced at her, but she quickly averted her eyes as she tore the skin away from her nails. She forced herself to keep her breathing calm, she would not panic.
Everyone's voices stopped when the sound of Venable's cane hit the floor, and Ana took a nervous breath as her eyes found the ginger. Though, they quickly went to the dark haired woman behind her. "Miriam." She mumbled to herself. It took a lot to not embrace her, but she knew the woman could not remember her, or Michael for that matter. She wondered why he had erased her memory also, but she assumed that all of her questions would be answered later on. Yet, another thing for her to worry about.
She was fine when she was with him, but she wasn't doing too hot at the moment.
Venable and Miriam took their usual seats, and Ana kept her eyes down as grey's placed their food trays in front of them. She had forgotten about the food there, or lack of, and frowned at the gelatin on her plate. Go to breakfast, he had told her. And eat what exactly, Michael?
Everyone "ate" and talked amongst themselves, listening in on another tale from Evie Gallant. Ana could feel Venable's eyes on her, but she didn't dare look her way. She knew that the ginger couldn't remember her, but that didn't help the way she felt under her stare. Ana felt like an awkward, bent out of shape puzzle piece that wouldn't fit correctly, throwing the whole puzzle off.
She inhaled her breakfast, anxiously tapping her foot as she counted the cracks in the table beneath her, listening as Gallant bitched to his Nana. She thought maybe for a mere moment, she had gone completely invisible and that everyone had forgotten about her, but that was most definitely not the case.
"My darling girl, Anastasia, always has my back. Don't you, dear?" Evie's voice rang out, causing the girl to widen her eyes as she looked up.
Everyone was staring at her now, and she swallowed as she tightened her fists. "I'm sorry?" She asked shyly, causing a dramatic sigh from Coco.
"No one talk to Ana. She's too busy daydreaming about Repunzel upstairs." She rolled her eyes, glaring at Ana.
Her mouth fell open, and she grew red as she looked down. "Hey!" Gallant snapped. "Just because you couldn't get your back blown out doesn't mean you can pick on her." He defended, gaining a chuckle from Evie. "Don't pretend you didn't try and do the same thing during your interview, Coco. Getting into the sanctuary is fair game, you don't have to be a bitch about it."
Coco scoffed loudly, a tension that was thick as thieves between the dynamic duo. "What the hell is your problem?"
Ana's breathing was growing shallow, and she automatically looked up to the stairs in search for him. She almost felt lightheaded, and her eyes grew blurry as her skin felt hot. However, a scream lodged it's way out of her throat when Venable smacked her cane down harshly on the table, gaining flinches from everyone.
"Enough with this." She stood, glaring at Coco and Gallant. "Once a day we gather together to socialize and be civil. You're lucky you get this one meal, and I'd be careful of how you act before I dismiss that privilege, also." She spoke loudly, and Ana gripped the table to steady herself.
"Breakfast is over." She announced, tapping her cane against the floor. "Leave now. I'd like a word with Ms. Grey."
Her heart fell to her stomach, and she looked up to make eye contact with the ginger as her chest moved rapidly to get in air. Her luck was just simply shit. There was no other way of putting it. Her day had started out wonderful, but it quickly escalated into another scolding by Venable.
Both Mallory and Gallant sent her sympathetic looks, though she did not see them. She kept her head down, making her fingers bled as she picked at the skin. It was quiet, a tense energy in the room that made her want to throw up. The sound of her shoes hit the floor as she approached her, and Ana lifted her face to see the woman across from her.
The girl forced herself to push back her nerves, because she couldn't allow herself to be defeated by the woman. She tried to remember how she acted at the cooperative around her, tried to channel the same feelings to help her through the moment. But she couldn't, because she just wasn't the same person anymore. However, she wanted to be brave. Not only for her own sanity, but more importantly, she wanted to make Michael proud. He wouldn't be able to fall back in love with her if she was like this. She needed to get back to herself, the girl he had fallen in love with. "Yes?" She forced out, straightening her posture.
Venable held the top of her cane, staring down at the girl with an intimidating glare. "You've been quite the topic of conversation lately, Anastasia. Care to explain why?"
Her finger was bleeding, and she could feel the warm burn of blood drip down her finger and onto the floor. She cleared her throat, thinking of an excuse in her head. Though, she didn't know why she needed one, because she knew Venable knew where she had been. Everyone knew she had been with Michael.
"Mi- Mr. Langdon has been interviewing me." She nodded, licking her lips. "It's been taking longer than expected. I apologize if I've caused any inconvenience." She said politely, her face red in embarrassment. Long ago, she would have rather eat dirt than apologize to the woman, but she was willing to say anything to help her escape the situation better.
Venable gave an unamused smirk, moving closer. "Yes, I've been aware. However, interviewing seems to be light of term, don't you agree?" She tilted her head. "I must say I'm surprised that you would...engage in such activities to get what you desire. I'd expect such actions from everyone else, but never you." She spoke in a soft tone, but it held a sinister feeling that made Ana feel sick.
The girl gave a shrug of her shoulders, hoping to make herself look less nervous. "Engaging?" She questioned. "Like I said, he's been interviewing me. I can't help he's taken interest in me. Perhaps that's why it's taken so long."
Venable lifted her chin as she thought, and Ana blinked nervously under her stare. "Do you remember the night you broke into my quarters?" She tilted her head, stepping around the table.
Ana narrowed her eyes, thinking through her jumbled memories as the woman continued speaking.
"You demanded that you seen your file and that you wanted answers. If you remember correctly, it was instructed that you were treated with the utmost respect and kindness, that not a single hair on that sweet head of yours was to be harmed. Do you remember that, Anastasia?" She spoke lightly, moving closer.
The girl nodded, her eyes averting away. She glanced back up the stairs, wishing for her night and shining armor.
"If not followed," She continued. "That said crime could be punishable by death. Do you remember that?"
As she continued speaking, the more she remembered about her night in Venable's. She had went in there with extreme confidence and only left in tears and a runny nose. "Yes." She mumbled, holding her stomach nervously.
"And that always baffled me." The ginger took a step, her dark earrings dangling from her ears. "Why would a small, singular girl have such specific instructions? But, nevertheless, I followed them." She made her way around the table and to Ana's side, and the girl averted her eyes as the scent of the woman's perfume drifted into her nostrils.
"Would you say that I have?" She tapped her cane against Ana's chair. "Treated you with kindness and respect?"
Whatever Michael had done to Venable had surely pissed her off, and she was taking it out on Ana right now. She gulped at the question, too afraid of saying anything else but- "Yes."
The woman smiled, bending over until they were level. "Good." She breathed. "But I'm sorry to say that a piece of paper can't hold my tongue back anymore." She spoke almost angrily, and Ana narrowed her eyes as she looked up to her.
"This is my outpost. And if anyone is getting into the sanctuary it's me. Not some bushy haired skank. I've protected you here, just like your file has instructed, and never once did I question it with you. But I won't have you walking all over me. I won't have you walking blindly under all our noses while you prostitute yourself for your own safety. Don't bother coming to our meals or social gatherings. You don't want to be there, and frankly, neither does anyone else." She spat, gripping Ana's chin in her hand.
"I know how men like him are. They want one thing and one thing only, which is that sweet thing between your legs. He'll tell you that he loves you just so he can fuck you, but he doesn't. You can pretend all you want, Anastasia, but it's true. Maybe you'll get to the sanctuary, maybe you won't. But one thing is for sure, and it's that Michael won't be around."
Venable was mad, seething angry even. Her breath was hot in Ana's face, her nails digging into her pale skin painfully. Ana simply had no words, and her eyes were wide while her chest heaved out of her dress. She didn't even know what she was saying, but she would soon regret it. "I-"
The woman's hand harshly smacked her across the face, a loud slap bouncing off the walls as Ana yelped like a kicked puppy. She turned back to the woman, holding her face as tears brimmed her eyes. Venable said nothing, and she slowly exited the room as Ana sat there.
She was the only one in there, and it was quiet besides her heavy breathing. She was too in shock to even cry, though Venable's words had upset her. She wanted Michael, but she was embarrassed to go find him. It had only been half an hour, however she was failing miserably without him. She stumbled to her feet as she ventured into the hallway, deja-vu haunting her. For a moment, she felt like the Anastasia she had been three days ago. The girl she had been when she didn't remember who she was. Lifeless and depressed, imprisoned along side everyone else and their stares.
It terrified her, and she gripped her stomach as it twisted in illness. No, no, Michael was there. She burned it into her head, forcing herself not to panic. She felt like she was drifting back in time, back to when she didn't know who she was. Michael hadn't been there with her, at least, not for very long.
"Bitch."
Ana jumped as she whirled around, catching Coco's death glare as she crossed her bejeweled arms. "What?" Ana's voice cracked, feeling silent tears running down her face.
The blonde stepped forward, causing Ana to step back. "I said, you're a bitch. You act like we all owe you some entitlement now that you're sleeping with Langdon. Well, you won't get it from me. I see you for what you are, Anastasia, and I will get to the sanctuary." She spat, stomping her foot like a spoiled child.
Ana was having difficulty separating the lines of reality. It all seemed to...well, it felt like she was hallucinating. Between Venable and Coco, it all felt like she had been sucked back into her life at the outpost before Michael had shown up, and she felt a ball of panic in her throat as she backed away.
"He only likes you because you're young!" Coco complained, fixing her hair. "You're just a child, Anastasia. A girl with no experience. But just wait until he gets a taste of me. That will definitely book my one way ticket to the sanctuary. It's like Gallant said," She stepped up to her face. "It's fair game. May the best man win, bitch."
She stormed off and slammed the door to her bedroom, leaving Ana in, yet again, shocked tears as she sniffled. Her hand went to her head, trying to ease the pounding as she stumbled away. No, Michael was there. He was. If Coco hadn't of mentioned him, she probably would have went off to find him. But she had to suck it up until dinner, despite how difficult it was going to be.
She eventually found herself in what seemed to be an old classroom, and she quickly locked the door behind her as she investigated around her. Her face burned from Venable's hand, and she cringed at the sight of her cheek in the mirror. She'd have to cover it with her hair, otherwise Michael would soon become hurricane Michael.
There was barely anything in the room besides some desks and a table, and she took a seat as she tried relaxing her body. She didn't have enough energy to muster up sobs, only silent tears and sniffles leaving her body. She leaned her head against the desk, folding her arms underneath as she cried.
Well, one thing for sure haven't changed, and it was that Ana did not like being alone. Specifically without him. Bad things always happened. And really, perhaps the interactions weren't completely terrible, but her brain was still processing everything.
It was like a messy, disorganized library; and it was taking forever to clean and place everything back in its proper place. And when she did seem to find the correct shelving for a particular book, someone knocked it down. That someone being Venable and Coco. She felt abandoned again, but she knew that she hadn't been.
Michael was there, and she just had to keep telling that to herself.
And so, for the entirety of the day, she spent it in that dark room. Eventually, she found some paper in her desk, and she began jotting down her memories in the order that they had happened, begging herself not to forget them. Tears stained her paper, and her head pounded as she wrote.
She was utterly pathetic, worrying and crying over a dumb piece of paper. But she couldn't help it, and she counted down the minutes until she saw him again.
~~~
She was like a zombie when she walked through the hallways to find his room, and if she strained her ears enough, she could hear the clanking of dinnerware as the residents of the outpost dined. She didn't understand why everyone had to gather together for a piece of gelatin, or why they had such fine looking China. It made no sense, but hardly anything made sense to her.
She had long since stopped crying, though her head still pounded and her cheek stung from the slap she had received. She was extremely depressed, and her stomach ached with every step she took. And if things hadn't been worse enough, Coco's words had made her start doubting her physical appearance. Yet, another thing for her to worry about.
She wondered if Michael would still love the person who she was inside, but would he also love what she looked like on the outside? She didn't look quite the same anymore, and she had jotted down all the things she disliked about herself on a piece of paper that she had stuffed into her pocket.
It had been sort of a therapeutic, in a way. On one piece, she wrote every memory and detail of her life that she could think of. On another, she wrote down each and every detail of her body that she disliked. Or how she viewed it, what Michael could possibly dislike. He had never said anything like that before, but she was already worrying enough about him falling out of love with her. And right now, she was desperate to keep him loving her, because she wouldn't survive it if he didn't.
So she couldn't cry and be sad, he wouldn't want that for her. She'd plaster on a smile and prepare for whatever words he would tell her. Tonight was the night, and they were finally going to talk.
She was growing uncomfortable in the dress she was wearing, having been in it for almost four days. But she didn't have time to change, because it practically took her an hour to get out of her corset by herself. She pushed back any sad tears and fluffed up her wild hair, glancing around her as she approached his door. She gave a single knock, opening it and quickly shutting the door as she spun around.
She smiled when she saw him at his desk, his fingers tapping away on a laptop on the opposite side of the room. "Michael." She breathed a smile, making her way toward him.
"Just a moment, darling." He held out a hand, stopping her in her place.
She abruptly stalled, swallowing awkwardly as she stood there. You big fucking baby, she told herself, trying to ignore the hurt that ran through her. It wasn't a big deal, his words, but she was already feeling like she was being rejected, and she folded her hands together as she looked down. She brought her nail up to bite, and she winced at how sore they were from her previous biting. She quickly made sure to readjust her hair to hide the red mark across her cheek, and she breathed in anxiously as she waited for him to finish.
He gave a deep sigh as he closed the computer, and he turned in his seat to smile at her. He stood and took long strides to her, and he lifted her chin to kiss her passionately. Her arms fell at her sides, not having expected the reaction out of him. "You look beautiful." He breathed against her, holding her waist.
She softly moaned into his mouth, breaking away to rest her face against his. "It's- it's the same dress as before."
He shook his head, giving a tiny smirk. "You're still beautiful." He pulled away to grab her hand, gently pulling her along to the wide, tall doors that led to the other half of his suite. She followed him, and her eyes settled on the fine dinnerware that had been used the night of her interview.
"I know you're hungry." His voice spoke coolly, pulling her into the room. "So I hope what I've prepared you suits your fancy." He patted her head with a coy smile, ushering into a seat by the table.
She pushed a curl behind her ear, offering a shy smile in return as she blushed. She really wasn't that hungry, but if he wanted her to eat, she would. He needed to be pleased with her, otherwise he might not find her company as enjoyable as it once had been. There was a plate in front of her, covered by a silver sphere as candles decorated the room. It was rather romantic, and she smiled as she unclenched her fists. "Thank you." She spoke softly, her eyes going up to his.
He moved to kneel beside her, and he lifted her knuckles to kiss them. "Close your eyes."
She blinked as she turned in her seat, furrowing her brow. "What?"
He gripped her chin, moving in on her as he pecked her lips. "Close your eyes."
He was in a particular good mood, that was completely obvious. While interviewing, he couldn't stop thinking about how she was running about the outpost, and the fact that she knew who he was. Things weren't perfect, but he had gotten her back. His happiness was well celebrated, and he hoped that their soon to be conversation could help ease her stresses.
She grabbed his hand as she obeyed, a small smile on her face as she laughed. She could hear him lifting the lid of the plate, and he moved his hand to squeeze her thigh. "Open your mouth." He breathed into her ear, causing her to jump slightly.
Her heart skipped a beat at his words, and if she hadn't heard the cover of her meal being lifted, she would have thought he meant entirely something different. Her lips parted, and she could hear the jab of a fork and a sweet scent hit her nose. She creased her brows together, a familiarity in the smell that made her heart swell. Her lips were slightly parted, and his forehead went to the side of her face as his lips caressed her ear. "Wider."
How perverted of him.
She followed his command, widening her lips as he maneuvered the fork into her mouth. She knew what it was the second it hit her taste buds, and her eyes snapped open as a goofy smile spread across her lips. "Peach pie!" She beamed, her voice muffled from food as crumbs fell down her chin.
He laughed, leaning down to hide his face against her chest. "Mhm." He mumbled, kissing her skin as she reeked havoc on the pie in front of her.
She didn't ask how he had gotten it, she had grown used to his surprises long ago. He could feel hear heart racing as he kissed her chest, her stomach swirling with happy butterflies as she fed her hungry body. He was content against her, his eyes fluttering closed as he breathed in her scent. Her thoughts weren't as loud or rambled together, though she was thinking intently on certain subjects that he couldn't make out. What a mystery she was.
She gave a content sigh as she leaned against him, dropping the fork as she wiped her mouth. "I think I just came."
She hadn't even realized what she had said until he raised his eyes at her, a chuckle leaving his lips. Her eyes went wide as she slapped a hand over her mouth, an embarrassed giggle muffled by her hand. "Oh, God." She blushed. "I can't believe I said that."
He tugged away her hand, laughing as he stood to take his own seat. "Well, I knew you'd be satisfied with the dinner entree, but I didn't expect you to be that satisfied." He smirked, leaning against his seat.
She chuckled with pearly teeth as she looked to the fire, her chest heaving in joy that made his heart soften. "You must of had a good day." He crossed on leg over the other.
Oh, on the contrary. Her day had been utter hell. She had been slapped across the face, spat evil words from Venable and Coco, stayed locked up in a dark room and cried like a baby. Oh, what fun that had been. But of course, she wasn't going to tell him that.
She gave a small smile, raising the rim of her glass to her lips. "It was alright." She shrugged her shoulders.
He nodded. "I had...expected you to come look for me. I'm taking it everything went alright, then?" He raised his eyes to her, trying to detect if she was sincere or not.
For a moment, they had shared in laughter. But that was gone now. In a flash of a second, he could see panic in her eyes that he didn't understand. "Yes, it was fine." She nodded, averting her eyes down. He was only reminding her of the words that haunted her mind, though she knew it wasn't his fault.
"What's wrong?" He asked, causing her head to snap up.
"Nothing." She shook her head, giving a tight lipped smile.
He didn't believe her. He knew her better than anyone on the planet, even though there wasn't exactly a whole lot left on the planet. The change in her was dramatic, and he could see the sad gleam of her eyes and shake of her hands that made him grow deeply concerned. "I don't believe you."
She didn't like his interrogations, and she swallowed as she picked at her nails. "Well, that's your problem then. Not mine."
He raised his brows at her tone, and he sighed as he went to continue. But he didn't, and his eyes narrowed together as he sat up. Ana could feel his eyes on her, and she took a shaky breath as she tried controlling her nerves. He was making it incredibly hard to pretend like she was okay, like she wasn't a shaking ball of anxiety.
"What's that on your face?"
Her eyes snapped up to his, and they grew wide as he stared at her cheek, his elbows leaning against the table. "I-"
He abruptly stood, rounding the table and kneeling beside her. He turned her head toward him, ignoring how her hands tried to intervene as he pushed away her hair. "Nothing. It's nothing." Ana rushed, watching confusion mold in his features.
He didn't believe her, because she was growing increasingly more fidgety by the second. She was spouting lies at him, and he was becoming tired of it. "What is this?" He nodded to the red mark on her cheek.
She blushed red, licking her lips as she lied. "I hit my face on a doorknob." She rushed, giving a tight lipped smile. "On accident, of course. But I'm fine, so you can let it go."
He grew visibly angry. Not at her, but the fact that her words were not of truth. "Who hit you?" He seethed, gripping her chin.
She shook her head, holding his wrists. "No one, Michael. Forget it." She knew he would go hunt down Venable if he knew, and she didn't want him leaving again. She couldn't stand the walls around her, and it made her feel trapped in the lifeless ball of depression she had been in for eighteen months. It drained the energy from her, and it only worsened when Michael wasn't around.
"Tell me, Anastasia." He said sternly, his blue eyes gleaming with anger. "I'm not playing around."
Her eyes were teared up now, and she gave a sniffle as she shook her head. "No one, Michael-" She yelped when he grabbed her face.
"Tell me!" He snapped, causing her to let out a cry.
"Venable!" She cried. "It was Venable, okay?"
His eyes grew wide with anger, but they only grew confused when she abruptly shoved him off of her. "Go then!" She turned in her seat, crossing her arms as she cried. "Go do whatever it is that you're going to do! Leave! I know you want to!" She put her hands in her hair as she leaned against the table, sobbing like a broken little kid.
Michael watched her with a more confused stare than he had ever mustered up before, and he shook his head as he moved closer to her. "Ana- Ana, what's wrong?" He felt like an idiot asking, because he knew she wasn't just going to tell him. She had so much going on up in her head, and she just wouldn't tell him what she was thinking.
And perhaps she was being dramatic, but she was beyond terrified of him leaving. Maybe hunting down Venable was an excuse for leaving her? The kind gesture of pie and sweet kisses did nothing to ease her worried soul, because she was too paranoid to see how much he loved her. She ignored him, and he placed his hand on her shoulder and the other on her thigh as he tried to look at her face. "Anastasia, talk to me. Tell me what's wrong. Is it Venable? I'll kill her, Anastasia. I swear, I will."
However, he couldn't believe that a simple slap was what was bothering her so much. No, her tears were too strong for that. She just felt like how she had felt before, a broken record. She couldn't breathe or think without him, couldn't function trapped in those walls and with those people. She felt isolated and terrified, and she breathed in a sob as she pulled at her hair.
She wasn't talking to him, too afraid of disappointing him with her tears. Had he done something, he wondered. Well, that was stupid. Of course, he had. It was silly to think that just because she smiled things would be easier. No, that wouldn't make up for the trauma and abandonment she had been through. He had promised he wasn't going to leave her. And even though he had good reasons for doing so, he still had left her alone.
He didn't know what else to do, he didn't know what to say. He leaned his head against the shoulder of her arm, and he breathed in a sad breath as he kissed her skin. "I'm sorry."
He shook his head lightly. Sorry didn't even begin to cover it. "I'm sorry for making you cry. I'm sorry for leaving you. Fuck, Ana, I'm so sorry."
She felt like she had whiplash. That morning had been happy, but when she was left alone with everyone else, it had gone straight to hell. When he had fed her pie, she was happy. But even at the thought of him leaving her to find Venable made her break. She was a ghost of herself, and why would Michael ever love that?
Michael knew that she wanted answers to her questions, and even though he was beyond nervous to answer them, he hoped it would make her feel better. He leaned his forehead against her shoulder, holding her leg as she cried steadily, swallowing as he felt tears brew in his eyes. "You were asleep for seven months." He spoke softly, and he could hear her crying slightly pause.
God, he could barely think about it. It made him physically sick. But she needed to know, and he was willing to do whatever it was to help her. "I worked with Miriam and Venable most of the time, organizing and working on setting up our plans. We built the sanctuary, other outposts around the world. Some days it took longer than others, but for the most part it went according to schedule." He had a tear going down his face, but he ignored it.
He sniffled, continuing his words. "I'd come see you when I had the time. I'd talk with you, hold you and kiss you. I can't tell you how hard it was for me not to wake you up. I came so close so many times." He brushed his fingers over her skin. "But..eventually, things were slowing down. I was getting distracted, because all I could think about was you at the safe house. So, I- I stopped coming to see you, otherwise I'd never get things done." He gave a shallow sigh, forcing himself to keep his sobs in.
"And then the day came when everything was done and ready." He knew he skipped over some things, but the minor details weren't important. His face contorted into tears, and he gave a small sob as he relived his guilt. "But I wasn't ready. I was too afraid of waking you up, because..because of Cordelia. I hadn't seen or sensed her magic since that night, and I wondered if she knew about you. I was terrified for your safety, Ana. So I let you lay there while I went out to search for her." He cried softly.
"I looked for months, but never found any sign of her. And that only made it worse, because I couldn't wrap my head around it. I don't like surprises, not when it comes to you." He breathed in shakily, swallowing his tears as he gripped her leg. "But I couldn't let you rot there anymore. I couldn't...you needed to live, even if it was without me for a while. I wasn't ready to give up the search for Cordelia, so I made you forget about me. I made you forget, so you could live. I continued my search and Jack brought you to the outpost. I hid everything from you because I was terrified of what you would do if you knew I wasn't there. I couldn't..risk anything. I needed to know you'd be safe, even if you were unhappy. I erased Venable's and Miriam's memories of you and I, because I was afraid they'd give away information or trigger something in your memory. Fuck, I- I just couldn't take any risks, Ana. I never can with you." He sniffled, leaning his head up as he looked to her curls that covered her face.
He lightly touched her neck, crying softly as he looked down. "And so...eighteen months later, here we are. I couldn't look anymore for Cordelia, and truthfully, I still don't know what happened to her. But all I know is that I couldn't be separated from you anymore. I couldn't be." He wanted to see her face terribly, but he knew she needed space. Who wouldn't after hearing all this?
"And when I came back, when I locked eyes with you, it took everything I had to not run to you, to not make you remember me. Fuck, I can't tell you how hard it was." His face twisted into guilt, and he let out an airy sob that pierced the room. "I should have made you remember me right then and there. I know I should have and I'm sorry I didn't. But I was afraid. I wasn't ready for you to truly see me yet. I've changed, Ana. And not for the better. I was afraid of what you would think, so..so I just watched you. I watched the way you lived your life here, the way you spoke and interacted."
He gave another sob, moving his hand to her curls as he broke. "You're so quiet now. Sweetheart, you barely talk. I'm so...Anastasia, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for what I did to you. I'm so sorry for abandoning you. I won't ever leave you alone again, I swear it. This world is safe now. I made it just for you. It's all yours. I won't leave you ever again, darling, I promise." He kissed her shoulder. "I promise. I promise. I promise." He repeated, his tears sinking into her skin.
He cried for several minutes, though Anastasia hadn't said a word. He hadn't even seen her face, and he was beyond terrified to know what thoughts she had going on in her head. What was scary about it was the fact he couldn't hear them. They were calm, calm like a gentle creek. It should have eased his anxiety, but it didn't.
He gave her time to process everything, and almost an entire hour went by without them saying a word or looking at one another. He kept his lips to her shoulder, or he'd move and lay his head in her lap. He gave her space, though he couldn't physically leave her. And he wouldn't, not unless she wanted him to.
Ana kept her eyes glued to the table, her tears dry and sticky against her face. She was surprised, but his words hadn't really bothered her. They didn't thrill her, but she wasn't foaming at the mouth because of them either. If anything, it all made sense. She could make sense of things now. Like why it had taken so long and why he hadn't been there. He had been scared, that was the answer. Her safety still laid in the balance so he did what he needed to do to protect her. That's what he had always done from day one, and now was no different.
But that's not what bothered her, because she was still extremely upset. It had been twenty five months between them. No conversations shared or stares across the room. No kisses or passionate love making. There was nothing. Just a big, dark gap that broke their hearts in half. He had changed, but that didn't matter to her. She had fallen head over heels for him the first day she had met him, and that never broke during their separation, only frozen in time.
But what about her?
Throughout her whole life, she never felt like people truly loved her. Not completely anyways. Charlie and Helena had long since passed, abandoned her in some sort of form. Her friends did, only amplifying the feeling. Was it her? Did she repeal people and keep them from loving her? Of course, she knew her parents loved her to some extent, but maybe it wasn't great enough to stay.
She didn't want Michael to love her out of guilt, she didn't want him to feel like he had to stay with her because he felt guilty. She could understand his words, process them and fit them into perfect shelves amongst the library of her mind. However, she couldn't process the idea of him no longer loving her. But, who could blame him? She wasn't herself anymore, nothing but a shell that had been shattered over time.
Her hand slowly went to his, and she swore she almost tasted the bitter burn of bile in her throat. His head perked up at the contact, and he sniffled away tears as she turned in her seat. He had to bit his tongue to keep from sobbing at her appearance, because she looked ill, like she was going to vomit any second. She had silent tears going down her cheeks, the candles making them shine like diamonds.
Her lip quivered as she made her eyes go to his, and her hand squeezed his as she sniffled. "It's okay." She whispered.
Michael's eyes narrowed, and he shook his head in denial from her words. It was okay? That's it? No, it wasn't okay. Not in the slightest. She should be screaming at him and throwing him through a brick wall. And Ana could see the cogs turning in his mind, and she bit back a whimper as she nodded. "It's okay, Michael." She rubbed his wrist. "I forgive you. You don't have..to feel guilty." She gave a tearful smile.
He narrowed his eyes again, looking down briefly as he thought. "Of course, I do. How can I not, Anastasia?" He shook his head, staring up at her with utter disbelief in his eyes.
She was taking this too calmly, yet her posture and glum look on her face screamed otherwise. She felt like she was holding back vomit, the words in the back of her throat making her want to end it all right then and there. It would kill her most likely, speaking them. But she didn't want Michael to have to fake his love for her, or to stay with her and pretend that she was her old self when she clearly wasn't. She wanted him to be happy, so if that meant moving on, then so be it. She wouldn't survive it, but Michael was more important than her own well-being.
"You-" She tried speaking, but her mouth clamped shut. She was shaking like a leaf, her tears burning her face as she tried keeping it together. Michael looked down to her hands, frowning in concern as she shook. He looked up to her, grasping her face. "Tell me what you're thinking." He needed to help her somehow, he needed to make up for everything.
She couldn't plainly say it without most likely dying on the spot, and a whimper escaped through her lips that made his eyes burn. She looked down to his chest, crying weakly as he did the same. "Ana, please." He begged her. "Tell me what to do. I need to know what to do, so I can help you. Please, let me. Please, let me help you, sweetheart."
Was she mad at him or not? He couldn't fucking tell. He loved her, oh, God how he loved her, but she confused him like no other.
"You don't-" She forced, gripping his wrist as she moved her eyes to his. "You don't have to feel guilty, Michael." She breathed, ignoring how her face wanted to twist together in tears. "Really, you don't. You did what you needed to do and I understand. I've always understood that." She sniffled, nodding.
That still didn't make it better, though. And the fact that she was defending him didn't settle right in his stomach. But she looked...weird. She had more going on up in her head than just acceptance. He rose a little higher, his hand holding the side of her thigh as he observed her face. He was trying to read her thoughts, but she was blocking him out as best as she could. "Ana-" He swallowed, begging that she would just talk to him. "Ana, please-"
"You don't have to stay just because you feel guilty." She rushed, blinking down tearfully at him. She shut him up instantly, and he lowered back down as he stared up at her.
Her hands were shaking, and she bit her lip as she tried not to break. "I would...I would understand if you wanted to leave." She nodded, gripping his hands tight in hers. "There's been..so much time between us and I- I would understand if you felt different now."
She barely paid any attention to his face, just trying to focus on getting words out of her mouth. "I'm not..I- I'm not the same. I'm not the same person that you put under the spell. And I- I don't think that I will be ever again." She wasn't completely crying, but it was difficult to understand from how much her voice shook.
She was coming to accept it now, him leaving. Hell, she hadn't even heard his words, but she didn't have to. She was too different, difficult even. She couldn't even love herself. Her hand left his to come up to her face, and she buried it in her hair as she let out a sob. "You can go." she cried, squeezing her eyes shut. "I won't blame you."
It was like she expected him too, and she made herself loosen the grip she had on his hand. "You don't have to feel guilty, Michael. I don't w-want you to. You can go. It's o-okay."
She bit the palm of her hand to keep from going into hysterics, though was crying loudly with a broken tone. She let go of his hand and closed her eyes, accepting the fact she was going to have to live without him. Well, she wouldn't, really. Because as soon as he left she'd end it. A few minutes passed, and she peeked open an eye, her face falling when he still remained there. "Why-" She hiccuped. "Why are you still here?"
He was staring at her stomach, his face expressed in an emotion she didn't understand. It scared her because she couldn't read it, and her breath sputtered out of her as she stared at him oddly.
Michael couldn't even begin to express what he was feeling. Was this what she had been thinking about lately? Him leaving her? Why? That didn't make any sense. Why on Earth would he leave her? Why would he feel different? He was completely confused. She had changed, so that meant he wanted to leave? That didn't add up. Surely, he had heard her wrong. He cleared his throat, grabbing her hands as he looked up to her. "You're not making sense, Anastasia. Calm down and- just calm down and try and explain it to me."
He had heard her wrong. He absolutely must have, because there was no way she was actually thinking those thoughts.
She let out another cry, looking down to their hands. She didn't want to say it again, and her shoulders shook as she cried. She wasn't talking to him, only crying like a broken record as her breathing grew shallow. Michael was beginning to feel panicked. Was she serious? He needed to hear her explain it again, but she couldn't stop crying. "Ana." He begged her, squeezing her hands as his eyes flickered with worry.
She shook her head, swallowing back tears as she hiccuped. Fuck, he hated to do it, but he had no choice. She wasn't talking, and he needed to know what she had going on up in her head. He gave a groaned sigh, grabbing the back of her neck and bringing her lips down to his.
He penetrated through her mind in a flash of a second, swimming through each and every thought, every memory or dream she ever had. And he absolutely saw everything.
He saw how trapped and isolated she felt.
He saw how happy she was that he was there, yet she couldn't bring herself to believe that he would stay. He saw her trying to sort through her memories and make herself not forget them. He saw, and could feel her self doubt. Her hatred towards herself that burned his mind like an iron fist. Her mind was dead set on him leaving her, that he had grown bored and fallen out of love with her. He had moved on, no longer loving who she had become. She truly believed she had changed into some horrible, unlovable monster that couldn't stand to be looked at. She didn't like talking or being heard, she felt like she was awkward and out of place. She hated it there and always had since day one. She hated everyone there. She felt abandoned, though she didn't blame him. She blamed herself, because she couldn't stand to be alone, and she had given him no choice by putting her under the spell. Everything that had happened, she caused, only because she couldn't suck it up.
She truly believed he had fallen out of love with her, that she had grown unlovable and had become an embarrassment. She truly believed that he wanted to leave, and that he was only staying out of guilt. She believed he loved a memory of her.
When their lips parted, a strangled sob escaped her lips as he moved backward. She knew he had looked into her mind, and she crossed her arms as she looked down at the floor, crying in embarrassment. He stood as his hands dropped from her, and they hung loosely at is sides as he stared down at her. His eyes were wide, yet narrowed, his head tilted to the side as he tried forming words.
He couldn't believe it, and yet someone, he could. Because Anastasia was Anastasia, and she worried over the things that didn't need worrying about. This only confirmed that. His tall form made her look tiny, and he watched her with an unbelievable stare as she cried.
He cleared his throat, tilting his head to the side as he blinked in disbelief. "Is that really what you've been thinking about?" He spoke, though he knew it was true. He had seen it.
She sniffled as her sobs quieted down, only being replaced by quiet tears and whimpers. Maybe now that he knew, it would be easier to leave. Since he knew her feelings and that she was "okay" with it, maybe he'd leave.
"Answer me."
She flinched at the harshness of his voice, her eyes snapping up to his. She swallowed, her lips parting as she whimpered quietly. "Yes." She was humiliated, saying it out loud, and her face grew red with embarrassment.
He was angry, that was completely noticeable. His eyes were sharp, staring down at her like a kid getting their hand caught in a cookie jar. "You're embarrassed." He stated, noticing the tint of red on her face. "Good. You should be. That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard in my life, Anastasia. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't bend you over the arm of that chair and give you a good spanking."
His words caused her face to drop, and she stared up at him with a confused expression. Her mouth gaped open, a shuttering breath leaving her as she shook her head. "What?" She backed into her chair as he leaned down, bracing his hands on either side of her chair as his face moved closer to hers.
"That's the most idiotic thing I've ever heard in my life, Anastasia Grey. How, absolutely how can you think that?" He spoke through gritted teeth, practically breaking her chair from his angry grasp.
She had what felt like a brick lodged in her throat, and she only released choked cries as she leaned back into her chair.
"After everything we've been through," He continued, shaking his head. "You're really...you're really going to doubt my love for you? You think I'm going to leave you just because you've changed? That doesn't make any sense, Anastasia. I don't even know what the fuck to say right now." He all but spat in her face, gripping the chair tightly as he backed away.
Her tears were paused, staring at him in shock as she sniffled. Her face was stained red and blotchy, her nose slightly runny as her mind spun in circles. Why was he mad? He should...he should be gone, right? Why did he look so angry at her? She sat there silently, arms folded together as she sniffled her tears, watching him.
He stood there in a hot ball of rage, shaking his head in utter disbelief. He didn't even know how to go about this. She was so unbelievably stubborn, how was he going to get her to stop thinking like that? He was pacing the room, sending her an occasional glance as he thought. He needed to calm himself down, because truth be told, he could see himself blowing up at her. She couldn't handle that right now, so he needed to get ahold of himself. It wasn't her fault she was thinking that way, she had been abandoned. She had been stuck in a world she didn't understand with no memory of who she was. He had broken her with that spell, and this was the aftershocks of it.
Ana felt like she was on trial as he paced the room, and the longer time went on, the more embarrassed she felt. When he turned around to make eye contact with her, she swallowed as he moved forward. "Come here." He held out his hand.
She eyed it for a moment, blinking up at him as she slowly obeyed. He lured her across the room, and gently pushed her to sit on the bed as he opened a closet door. "What are you doing?" She asked quietly. She didn't understand why he wasn't leaving, surely, she hadn't been wrong. But maybe, in some way, she had been.
He didn't say anything, and he reached upward to grab a cardboard box as she fiddled with her fingers. She jumped when he sat it in her lap, moving to sit beside her. "Open it." He nodded, folding his hands. He was calm now, his anger being replaced by heartache. It absolutely destroyed him that she felt that way, and he knew it was all his fault. He had ruined so much.
Her shaky hands found the opening,
and she gave him a quick glance before she lifted the seal. It was like a time capsule, like a big blast from the past that made her heart slow. She looked at him, and he nodded for her to continue.
She didn't even say anything, she couldn't say anything. There were things in that box that hardly held any meaning to her back then, so why had he saved them? Firstly, her name tag from work. It was small and rectangular, the letter A' in her name starting to chip away. There was a yellow, bunched up ponytail that he had put in her hair when he had learned how to braid successfully.
There was a black bottle of nail polish from when she had painted his nails, an old gum wrapper from when they had split a piece together. Even her report card was in there, and her eyes were wide as she scanned over her old grades and teachers' names. There were lots of other things, all things that she hadn't thought were memorable. A name tag was a name tag, a ponytail was a simple ponytail. Meaningless. So why had he kept all of it?
Michael gave her a few moments to observe everything, and he kept his eyes glued to her face as he swam through her thoughts. Words couldn't even express how he felt towards her, so how could he soothe her aching heart? He couldn't even heal his. These were things he had kept to help his sanity. He would look at them while she was under the spell, remember memories and moments together. He wasn't even sure why he saved the things he did, but it felt wrong to disregard them.
Her lips were parted, a confused breath leaving her as she looked over to him. "I don't- I don't understand." She sniffled.
He could only speak what his heart told him, and he leaned forward until their faces were close together. "Ana, you're the only thing that's keeping me alive. You're my very reason for breathing. You keep me breathing. I don't understand how you don't know that by now." He shook his head, speaking quietly.
"Being without you-" His eyes teared up, matching her own. "Anastasia, I can't even begin to explain what it did to me. Seeing you lay there, knowing you were here. I wanted to come back for you, you don't know how bad I wanted to. But it always has and always will be your safety that comes first." He moved to grab the sides of her arms, a tear falling down his face. "It doesn't matter how miserable I am. I can't live in a world where you aren't safe."
She sniffled as he tried composing himself to keep from breaking down, and he gripped her arms to steady himself. "Ana, I'll never be able to tell you exactly how I feel. And it hurts so bad that I can't. Ana, you-" Just thinking about it again put him in disbelief, and he shook his head as his lips parted. "Ana, we've been through everything together. I was...nothing before I met you. You helped me find myself, my purpose. You helped me find my heart, because you...you had it with you the very moment you were born." He cried silently while she did the same, his hand moving to her face.
"Sweetheart, that doesn't just go away. You really think I've grown tired of you? I just don't understand how you can think that. So what it's been two years? It wouldn't matter if it was twenty or an entire fucking century. No measure of time is ever going to falter my love for you. No amount of time will ever match or compare what I feel for you. Anastasia, you keep my heart beating, and just you thinking like this is crushing it."
She was crying quietly, and he moved his other hand to pull their forehead together. "Ana, I love you. Are you hearing me? I love you. That's never going to stop. I'm never going to leave you again, I swear it. I'll never leave you until the day you order me away. I've not fallen out of you with you, you foolish girl. It's not possible."
He was going through a checklist in his mind, trying to soothe every worry she had going on up in her head. He brushed his nose against hers, drinking in her cries as he held the back of her neck. "You're beautiful. Anastasia, you're so, so beautiful." His hand went to the pocket of her dress, taking out the list of her insecurities and scrunching it up in his hand. He tossed it to the floor, shaking his head as she both cried. He could read in her mind what she had wrote down, and he brought one of her hands up to his lips. "You're hands are beautiful." He kissed them, the smell of blood against his nose from where they bled. "I've never stopped loving them."
He went to her nose. "You're nose is beautiful." He kissed the tip of it, her cries pouring into him as he caressed the shape of her nose. "You're eyes. You're hair. You're arms." He listed everything that she had wrote down on her list, everything she thought was worth writing.
She hated her hands because she couldn't stop biting them. Her nose, because of a tiny little bump on the bridge. Her eyes, because she thought they were dull and lifeless. She thought her arms were long and dangly, her hair a wild rat's nest that would never be tamed.
"You're not annoying." He narrowed his eyes, remembering the list in his head. He ducked down to kiss her shoulder, moving to the exposed area of her skin as her tears fell on to him. "You're not embarrassing. You're not boring or pathetic. You're beautiful, Anastasia." He gripped her face again, kissing her nose. "Fuck, you're just so beautiful. I love you. I love you so much. I'm never going to stop loving you. You have to understand that. Please, understand that, Anastasia."
He searched through her mind, tears falling down his face as he breathed. "You think you're broken? You can be. I am too. We can fix each other together."
Though her mind was full of incredibly stupid gibberish, she did have one point made. Time had been between them. It didn't falter their love, that he stood by completely. But it had shattered them. It had completely torn their sanity away from them, broken them down into a shaking ball of anxiety and nightmares, leaving them to wake up in a cold sweat of loneliness.
And that wasn't just something that could be healed now with one another's presence. No, it would also have to be healed with time. "We can be broken together." He whispered. "We can heal together. And we can love together. Are you hearing me, Ana?" He lifted his face, grabbing hers again as he wiped her tears.
"Say it." He shook her lightly. "Say that I love you. Say it until you believe it."
She cried quietly to herself, her face etched in exhaustion as she held his legs. She was staring at his chest, whimpering like a baby as he made her look to him. "Come on, darling. Say it."
Her lips parted as she breathed, and her eyes pushed out tears. "You love- love me. You love me." She sniffled.
He nodded. "Again."
She sobbed quietly, looking down briefly as she hiccuped. "You- you..love me. You love me. You love me."
Her body didn't want to believe it, but she did. Only because she could feel his sincerity, just like they had before. Their bond was reconnected, the feeling of being a fish on a hook that made her understand his love for her. She could feel it radiating off of him, she could see it in the gleam of his eyes and the way he held her face. Yes, he loved her.
So even though it felt utterly impossible, it wasn't. Michael loved her. And at his words; he always had, he always will and he would never stop. She kept him alive, as he did with her.
"Good." He breathed, cupping the back of her neck as his lips ghosted over hers. "Good girl. My girl. I love my girl." He kissed the corner of her mouth, tangling his hand in her hair as he pressed his face against her cheek. "Oh, how I love you."
Her crying had stalled, her mind trying to process everything he had said. Her hand numbly went to his locks of hair, and she choked out a breath as she spoke. "So you're not leaving me?" She whispered quietly, her voice cracking like radio waves.
He leaned up with narrowed and sad eyes, grabbing her face. "No." He said firmly, his tone laced in disbelief. "No, I'm not leaving you, you silly girl." He pulled her to his chest, holding her flush against him tightly as he tucked his face in her curtain of curls.
As the minutes grew on, she had yet to really
accept what he had said. And he knew that's what she was doing, that she was trying to process them. So he never said anything. He continued to hold her and kiss her temple, rocking her softly as her mind turned like cogs.
But when he eventually felt her sob break against his shoulder, he gave a sigh in relief. He squeezed her tighter, her sobs racking through her body and into his as her tears soaked through his jacket. He didn't mind though, it was what she needed. They were pressed together like magnets, tears matching each other's as he whispered the words I love you in her ear over and over.
She sobbed in a relief that made her feel reborn. She cried because she believed him. She cried because she had gotten him back and that he wouldn't leave. The world was safe now, and she had her heart back. Michael was back and he loved her.
Oh, how he loved her.
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this chapter was fucking over thirteen thousand words jesus fucking christ. i know i could have split it in half, but i wanted it to be all together rather than in another part. i'm sure it took a century to read so i apologize for that🤩
have a wonderful weekend slutz:)