A Night in the Myers' House

It was a week later that Izzy and I were sitting on my bed in my room, celebrating the completion of our term papers and what they meant in this New Year. A bottle of sparkling cider sat on the bedside table as we lay amongst the pillows laughing at the T.V. that was flashing the images of our favorite movie, Labyrinth, across the screen.

We had talked, extensively, on my night with Michael. Izzy drank down the details like she’d die without them, bugging me for more information. She didn’t approve, far from it, but she understood that he had given me a gift that I would carry with me forever.

Tonight wasn’t a night for talking of important things, in a few days time we’d be summoned back to our classes to turn in the papers we had written and neither of us wanted to think about anything that connected to school.

We had watched a series of movies today already, each different from the last. We started with ‘Love Actually’ for the lovely and talented Alan Rickman, then moved on to ‘Mozart and the Whale’ for a dose of Josh Harnett, that was followed by ‘I Know Who Killed Me’ for a few glimpses of Neal McDonough, all finished up with the great David Bowie in the ‘Labyrinth’. We had giggled our way through the day, snacking on popcorn and having impromptu pillow fights along the way.

The movie was wrapping up, and I soon would be left alone again, alone in my dizzying thoughts of Michael and why he had done what he had done. I could have been that he had a craving for human affection, or perhaps that he really thought that was what friends did together. I shook my head and tried to focus on the closing lines of the movie, laughing as Sir Didymus suggested a game of scrabble.

Minutes later, Izzy and I were standing at the front door, arms wrapped around each other in a hug. “See you Monday Andi!” she said and ran out into the cold to reach her car. I turned back inside and sighed, looking around the emptiness to possibly spark something to do. I sighed and made my way to the kitchen, it was time to make dinner.

I pulled out all the ingredients to make beef fajitas and started cooking, humming along to the radio as its soft music floated across the room. I was lost in thought, lost in the words to the music that seemed to go along perfectly with my life. I sat down at my small kitchen table and began eating, pouring myself another glass of sparkling cider.

After that, it was shower time. It was time to let the relaxing flow of the hot water consume me and beat away all the stress and emotional pain. I ran my fingers over my flushed, wet skin, letting them sooth the stress and stir up feelings that made everything else disappear.

It was about a half-an-hour later when I stepped out of my shower, grabbing a towel to wrap around my body. I headed into my bedroom and busied myself with sliding into my green-silk nightgown and matching come-hither underwear. Then back to the bathroom to brush the tangles out of my hair.

With an aggravated sigh I set the brush down and went back to my room to clean up the spilled popcorn Confetti hadn’t eaten, just to keep me busy in the time before I grew tired enough to go to bed.

I had the entire bedroom clean, along with part of the living room by the time I started to feel the exhaustion take over my body. I sighed and went to wash the cleaning chemicals off of my hands, then put some food and water in Confetti’s dish for the night. With a sigh of fatigue I headed down the hall and opened my bedroom door.

I had to stifle a scream when I saw the large figure lounging against the headboard on my previously un-rumpled bed. He was just as I had remembered him; his blue mechanics uniform and white mask stood out against the black of my bedding.

“What are you doing here Michael?” I asked walking to the side of the bed to look at him. I reached out and he took my hand in his, reaching up with the other to brush across my face. I closed my eyes for a second, enjoying the sensation of his skin against mine.

I sat down on the bed, content to just look at him for a minute. Satisfied to just watch him and make sure he was real, not just a figure created by my overactive imagination. It was a few minutes before another yawn took me and I nearly blacked out from the force of it. I sleepily muttered something unintelligible, then snapped out of it enough to say, “Michael, I need to sleep, you’re welcome to stay with me if you want.”

His only answer was to gently pull me down next to him, his hand possessively around my waist. I cautiously moved closer, snuggling into his warmth. He must have decided that he was going to keep me, that he trusted me enough to let me into his life. I sighed happily; a hand pressed against his chest, and fell into a contented slumber.

The next morning it was cold, freezing to be exact, and the body that should have been in the bed next to mine was no longer present between the sheets. I sat up and frantically looked around the room, watching for movement or the large body of my missing bed mate. When none came I scrambled out of bed and made my way out of the room and down the hall, looking for my Michael.

I found him sitting on the couch looking at my photo book. Photos of me and photos of friends and family covered the pages. Some even dated back to when I was just a baby. I laughed and sat down next to him, “See that woman right there? That’s my mom, the guy next to her is one of her previous boyfriends I think his name is Kevin.” He flipped the page and pointed to another picture and I complied with an answer, “That’s me and Izzy, we were at the store acting like idiots.” This treatment continued on until we reached the end of the book, it felt nice to share some of my past with him.

I stood and stretched, leaving Michael to go back through the book if he wanted. I went into the kitchen and poured myself a bowl of cereal before going back to join him on the couch. Now he was looking through my files on him, looking up to give me a quizzical look.

“What?” I asked with a shrug, “Why else did you think I was going through your house? I’m obsessed with you.” I leaned up and pressed a kiss on his cheek, pulling back quickly when he tensed up, “Sorry.”

He slowly shook his head and pulled me to him, pressing me up against his body, his hands ran up and down my back, then down farther to pull up the hem of my nightgown. I gasped lightly and leaned up to make the fabric come up easier, pressing my lips lightly against his plastic ones. This time he responded, pressing the plastic lips tentatively back against mine.

He managed to get the fabric up over my head and onto the floor before running his fingers down my front to play with my already tightening nipples. I let out a shallow breath before I went to work on his zipper, pulling it down slowly as I shivered at his touch.

Remembering my last comment to Michael the last time we had done this I stood and tried to pull him with me. “To the bed,” I managed to get out as I walked away from him and down the hallway.

Before I realized what was happening I was picked up and dropped unceremoniously onto the bed. I let out a little ‘omph’ that was quickly turned into a moan as my panties were pulled off and a finger pressed against my clit.

All too soon the pleasant friction was gone; I let out a small whine and looked up at my ‘captor’ before I felt him push into me. I bit my lip to hold back a scream and shut my eyes as tight as I could.

He moved slowly and gently inside of me, showing me that he isn’t the animal that everyone thinks he is. His thrusts hardened toward the end, his breathing becoming erratic and he placed his forehead up against mine. We climaxed together, his fingers lacing through mine as we came down off of our high.

“Wow,” I said with a smile and snuggled in closer to him, “that was amazing.” I kissed his cheek and he rolled off of me, pulling me up against his side. I laid my head on his chest and breathed in the scent that was purely Michael.

Moments later a sound pulled me out of my happy place, then a scratching noise on the door. I laughed and sat up; listening for Confetti’s hungry mewling to come once again. “Come on Michael, time to get dressed and feed the cat.”

His eyes held exasperation as I smiled down at him and rolled out of the bed. I grabbed jeans and a t-shirt and got dressed before heading into the hall to pick up the cat. I smiled over my shoulder at the figure of Michael who was standing behind me, “You haven’t been introduced to my baby! This is Confetti, the pain in the butt cat that I love.”

The cat jumped out of my arms and ran down the hall into the kitchen, I followed and stopped when I saw the figure standing in front of me, “Izzy, what are you doing here?”

She bent down and scooped some food into the cat’s bowl, “I dropped by to bring you a new Michael article for your collection. Why? What’s up?” She stopped and her jaw dropped, her eyes widening in shock.

I turned to see a ridged Michael standing there, body ridged, kitchen knife held firmly in hand. I made my way over to him quickly, “No Michael, she’s a friend, you can’t.”

He glared down at me, then back up at Izzy before dropping the knife on the counter. I wrapped my arm around him, trying to make him ease up a bit. His body didn’t ease, but his eyes were gentle when he looked down at me. “Come on Michael; let’s go sit back on the couch. Izzy, you should leave, I’ll call you later.”

She nodded and left the house, laughing at me as she walked away. I chuckled and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “Thanks for not hurting her, she’s my best friend, I couldn’t live without her.” He pulled me closer and nuzzled my cheek with his face.

He had come back to me, my Michael, that’s all I needed right now. Today would be a day of comfort, just me and him. And, of course, the cat.