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You were the soft melody of a piano, the nostalgic music played from the radio, a tender lullaby, and a love he’d never known.
That was what you were.
You were his everything.
He holds you gently, as to not break you, and beneath his touch was a twinge of firmness, to never lose you. And it kneads to a hidden confession, but the truth was never imparted, only known all along. Just by his touch.
Micheal was never fond of dancing, he thinks it is tedious.
But with you, all his sentiments become very fickle. And now, he becomes scarlet with the idea of dancing— with you; and a goofy, lopsided grin from ear-to-ear plasters on his visage at the thought of it. His heart pounds erratically, and he’d hoped you wouldn’t notice it.
In these lasting moments, you drape your hands around his neck, and pull him in closer— closer than what he’s used to, and his pupils widen. He sees your eyes up close, and there, he has a glimpse of his entire world within those two pupils. A world he desperately wanted to be a part of. And what’s worse, is that Mike sees a future in it, a future with you.
And there are terms, that are definitely hard to remember, for every and each movement you make. Like you’d told him, Waltz, Tango, or such. (He couldn’t bother to remember.) But it was how you became one with the movement, how tender the constant flow of your rhythm was, and god, he thinks none of those terms mattered.
The only thing that mattered was you.
How could he ever think of anything else when he had you?
He reminisces the passion in your eyes, and it’s his world, as he calls it. For the first time in his life, he feels the very essence of love itself; a love that he covets oasis in. Mike urges to kiss you. And in a phenomenal exhibition of self-restraint, he refrains to.
In an utterly perfect unison, his fingers intertwine with yours, like it was sculpted for each other to cradle. And he revels in it— because his fingers are only yours to hold.
He was yours to love, and only yours.
Together, you bask in each other’s warmth, and Mike makes sure he savors every motion he shares with you, that he explores every crevice of you, and sway with you like the waves. And there is nothing but admiration in his gaze.
Mike holds you tightly like there’s no tomorrow, and the feeling of it makes you giggle. The boy’s brow quirks up, tilting his head— and you reply with a peck on his nose. And he swore something surged through his heart, and his cheek grows warm. He grins widely, so much his cheeks started to hurt, and there was nothing in the room but fit of laughters & the soft melodies played by the vinyl.
It was then you’ve decided to stay with him forever.
Both of you swings in accordance to the melody, reposing your head to his chest. Unbeknownst to you, Mike tenderly presses a kiss to your head, and a smile graces his features— a smile you’ll forever be unaware of.
Perhaps it was a kiss of gratitude. A silent ‘thank you’ for withering away all of his strife, for letting him seek sanctuary in your arms. A ‘thank you’ for showing him a different kind of love; one that he never knew existed. You make the world spin slower for him, so much, he wishes to stop time altogether and bask in this moment forever.
Home is where he felt safe in. You were home.
You were always home.
The frigid breeze fleetingly grazed against his skin, and it helped as a gentle reminder that this experience was no dream. It’s real. Mike found solace in that fact, and he never thought he would like dancing as much as he did now. Mike would dance a million more years with you— if given the chance to do so.
You lift your head up and tenderly caress his cheek with your palm. And god, it was the way you gazed at him. It was like your eyes spoke to him: I want to be yours. And it was almost consuming how ethereal you were, right in this exact moment. A cascade of giddy exhilaration rushed through his veins.
The music comes to a halt.
Instantly, you pull away in attempt to retrace the edge of the record, yet with such sheer delicacy, Mike holds you back and urges to continue, despite the absence of music. It leaves you bedazzled, nevertheless, you oblige. And yet, even with the subtly ludicrous experience; truly strange— dancing without music— which makes you wonder if it defeats the point of dancing itself.
But it felt nice.
Then, out of nowhere, Mike hums a tune, strangely, it was familiar, yet you couldn’t point a finger on what it was. It lulls you tenderly, and it dawns on you that it was the same melody from the music earlier. Involuntarily you find yourself humming with him, and your head drops into the crook of his neck, letting this delicate moment bathe the both of you with an unspoken sanctuary.
Neither of you wanted this to end. And Mike looks at you, like you were his world, and you are his world. Because the rest of everything fleetingly fades away, and he barely heeds care to anything other than you.
You let both of your croons intertwine ever so harmonically, and it makes you realize that both of you really are meant for each other.
“I love you, Mike.”
He doesn’t say it back.
Mike’s shoulders almost stiffen, in disbelief of what you’d said. And it was this very moment he almost gave in— almost kissed you. But his timidity holds him back.
You brood if it was too early, or perhaps, he didn’t feel the same at all. But under his touch, there is a language that hides beneath his subtle motions. It dawns a revelation on you, and he doesn’t need words to tell you, when the way he holds you says more than it should have.
“I love you too,” he says by intertwining your fingers with his,
“I love you too,” he says by pulling you in, and finally pressing his lips against yours, breaking the traditional barrier of distance he’d been wanting to get rid of for so long.
He loves you too.
In ways of his own.