Requested on Tumblr
Reader: female
Word count: 1 887
Mikey could not help but stare at her as she walked past him in the hallway. She was looking as cute as ever as she strode past the other students. It seemed like she was untouchable, no one even dared walking in her way. But it was not the scared kind of making way, it was the impressed kind. She simply had something about herself that Mikey could not place his finger on. Maybe it was the way she dressed in simple clothes, a short skirt and a shirt that was a little too big for her, making her seem tiny and fragile, maybe it was her posture, the way she always held her head proud, but lowered so she glanced out from under her wild strands of tastefully messed up hair, maybe it was the way she walked so gently, as if she was almost floating. It was not something you would assume on the first glance, or the second, or the third for that matter, but Mikey knew her parents had money. Lots of money. Everyone in the whole school knew about it, and many kids still tried to befriend her just because of that, but not Mikey, no. He just loved watching her, and he melted inside when he heard her soft voice. There had been a rumor that she had gotten a car for Christmas, but nobody knew if it was true, since she always took the school bus, like all the other kids. Something that was no rumor though, was that she had had a long fight with her parents until she had convinced them to allow her to attend public school. Otherwise she would have been homeschooled.
"Dude, forget it, she's out of your league," Frank, Mikey's friend snored and leant against his locker.
"Am I not allowed to dream," Mikey wondered, annoyed that Frank had stolen his last precious seconds to watch her before she turned around the next corner.
"You always dream," Frank whined and grabbed Mikey by the arm to drag him to class. "You should get out there and find someone who you could actually have a chance with."
"Tomorrow maybe," Mikey answered, his heart beginning to hammer in his chest when Frank dragged him towards the classroom door, that was right next to (Y/n)'s locker.
~*~
You quickly turned towards your opened locker when you saw Mikey being pulled down the hallway by one of his friends, a boy called Frank. You had successfully ignored him earlier, but now you felt your cheeks heat up at the mere thought of him. Something about him was different. You had gotten used to all the envious stares and glances when you walked in public. Not your fault your father was a bestselling author. But with Mikey it was different. There was tenderness in his eyes, interest that reached beyond your financial situation. His eyes seemed to follow you whenever you walked past him, but when you turned to meet his eyes, he always looked away. You loved the way he doodled on his notes in class, the way his quiet voice barely reached the front of the classroom when the teacher asked him to answer a question. He was really talented when it came to drawing and you admired that his notebooks were covered in superhero doodles that his brother had made, which Mikey had stuck on all of his school books. It really showed how much Mikey admired his brother.
Now he was being pulled past you, and only for a split second yours and his eyes met. You felt your insides warm up comfortably. Something about him made you feel safe, like he really was only interested in you and no one else.
When you finally took a deep breath and faced the corridor again, he was gone.
~*~
Music class was Mikey's favorite class of the whole day. Not because it was the last lesson, but because you were in it. Nervously he tried fixing his hair in the bathroom mirror, but as soon as he stepped outside, Frank messed it up again but rubbing his head.
"Hey," Mikey complained, trying to duck away from Frank's attack but it was too late, his hair was already messed up again.
Of course he stumbled a few steps further, bumping into a girl, and when he looked up, his heart almost stopped. Of all the people in the school he could have bumped into, he had fallen against you, almost taking you down in the process. Quickly he extended his hands and grabbed you, saving you from a fall.
"Sorry, I'm so sorry, sorry, are you okay," he babbled incoherently, his cheeks burning.
You had hardly realized what happened, only that two big hands were securely holding your upper arms, saving you from falling to the floor.
"I'm fine, thanks," you mumbled, looking up into brilliant hazel eyes that scanned you worriedly and almost... afraid.
"I- I didn't mean to- ahm- he- yeah, sorry again," Mikey sputtered, letting go of your arms and waving around helplessly, pointing at Frank, trying to explain the situation.
"It's okay..." you tried to tell the nervous boy, but he had already turned around and quickly disappeared around a corner.
~*~
You could barely concentrate in music class that day. Mikey was sitting at the other end of the room, absentmindedly picking the strings of an electric bass that was not plucked in, and you were dying to hear what he was playing.
So you took all the courage you could summon and walked over to him. At first he did not notice you, too focused was he on playing a little tune you immediately liked. But then, out of nowhere, Frank popped up at his side.
"Hello there," he winked at you, making you roll your eyes, and Mikey look up.
He was obviously surprised to see you standing right in front of him and his cheeks reddened at the same time as yours once your eyes met.
"That sounded really good," you complimented, deciding to ignore Frank's comment.
"Thanks," Mikey whispered almost inaudibly.
"He wrote it for a girl," Frank added knowingly.
Mikey shot him an angry glare that you did not see, instead your heart sank a little.
"Oh," you managed to get out, trying not to sound too disappointed, but that failed terribly. "She's a lucky girl to get songs written about her."
"It's not a good song, so..." Mikey tried to explain, hoping that this would somehow not end up with him accidently confessing his feelings for her.
"I think it's good," you disagreed, "and even if it wasn't, it's still very special and incredibly valuable."
"You think so," Mikey asked, not yet allowing himself to hope that he might actually have done something that could impress you, you of all people.
"Of course! It's something really personal, and it takes a lot of time and talent to write a song, or even just a melody," you explained, trying to make him understand how much you adored his work.
"You think I'm talented," Mikey asked with wide eyes, completely forgetting what Frank had just told him this morning; you were out of his league.
"Hell yes! That melody just right there was so beautiful, and dude, have you seen your art? It's so gorgeous," you told him excitedly, fully aware that you sounded like an excited fangirl.
"Thank you," Mikey grinned.
For a moment you just stared at each other, and it felt like you had finally made a connection to the quiet boy you had been admiring from afar for almost a year now.
"The song is a really romantic gesture," you finally said, breaking the silence, "I'm sure she'll love it."
"Really," Mikey asked, deciding that he had waited long enough.
"Totally, she is really lucky to have you," you answered, suddenly feeling sad again. You really hoped she was good to him. He deserved to be happy.
"Well," Mikey hesitated, but then grabbed the notebook that had fallen shut next to his feet. He lifted it up and turned the pages until he had reached the one with the chords to the song he had been playing. He ripped out the page and folded it in half, handing the paper to you.
Confused you took the page out of his hand, and with a quick glance at Mikey you unfolded it again. Neat handwriting covered the page, lines of a song written down in tiny letters with chords for the bass written above it. You scanned the lyrics, a song about how the boy thought there was nothing he could do to gain the girl's attention because she was too good for him, from a rich family while he was the son of workers. Only then her eyes caught the title. 'For (Y/n)'.
Her breath caught in her throat as she read the title again and again, not realizing how nervous Mikey grew with every passing second.
"This is- this is so not true," you finally breathed, looking up from the paper in your hand, "It so doesn't matter who our parents are, or how much they earn or how big the houses are we live in, Mikey. And I am not, I repeat, not 'too good for you' or 'out of your league' because I don't believe in that bullshit and also it would be really rubbish because I like you at least as much as you say in this song that you like me, and I really, really want to prove you wrong on the 'not worthy of your love' part."
Mikey stared at you, still nervously holding his breath but with each second he felt like a weight was falling off his shoulders until he was feather light.
"Does that mean-"
"I like you, a lot," you answered his question before he had finished it.
"Oh," he mouthed.
"Don't be so surprised, what is there not to like," you laughed, feeling relieved to have finally admitted to your feelings for him.
"Uhm, a lot," Mikey answered, still nervous and unable to believe he was not dreaming, "the glasses, the hair, the mouth..."
You shook your head.
"Your glasses are really cute, your hair," you ran your fingers through the brown locks Frank had messed up earlier, "are super silky and your mouth," you could not help the smile on your lips as you leant down to press them against Mikey's who was still sitting with the bass in his lap, "are really, really soft."
You leant back up and watched as a big grin appeared on Mikey's face.
"Wow," he whispered.
"Yeah, wow, pretty soft lips indeed," you chuckled.
"No, I mean-" Mikey put the bass aside and stood up, placing his hand on your cheek and gently pulling your face closer to his again, "this."
He kissed you again, gently, without pressure and your eyes fluttered closed at the sensation.
"Hey guys, that was really, really kitschy, just so you know," Frank commented from next to you, having watched the whole time.
"Shut up," Mikey giggled, not finding it in himto care that Frank had seen everything. At least he had proven him wrong, youwere not out of his league, because there was no such thing as leagues.