You guys know the drill. Vote, comment, follow. Ily✨

MICAH BLEU

I wanted to admit that I'm strong, but I'm not. I'm weak in every sense of the word. They might even say I self-sabotage when things get rough, it's a defence mechanism that I wish I could control. But it's like my whole body goes into shutdown and I cannot function within high society, I push people away, I neglect my own needs. I destroy everything mentally because I can't handle it.

And that right here is my toxic trait.

I did it with Weston, I did it with leaving Neptune too early and now I'm doing it with my mother.

Segregating myself from the outside world so I no longer had to deal with the grief, guilt and sadness that weighs upon my shoulders.

How has my life turned upside down in the matter of weeks?

I guess I had no one else to blame.

It was my fault I pushed everyone away, went into my shell and wished that everything would blow over. But it wouldn't, my mum isn't going to get magically better. She has terminal cancer, she doesn't even know how long she has left. If I'm honest, I don't even want to know.

I cannot imagine life without my mother, she's the only family I have. She's been my rock since birth, she brought me into this world as a single parent when we barely had any money to buy food or pay for rent. She went above and beyond to make sure I didn't go without, meaning she missed meals.

After I got off the phone with my mother, I remember laying in bed and not sleeping a wink. I don't ever recall sleeping until now but I must have otherwise I'd most likely be going insane. Or maybe I already was.

I watched the sun rise and then set on repeat, I had no idea what day it was. Was I even alive right now?

Was this a long awaited dream? Nightmare more like.

I hope I wake up soon.

When I finally somewhat gain consciousness, the tears around my eyes had crusted to my skin, my mouth drier than the desert.

That's when I realised that I was buried deep into Weston's body, his arms were tightly wrapped around mine as I rested my face into the crook of his neck. He smelt like peace, a mixture of fresh laundry softener and a hint of his delicious aftershave.

He smelt like him–of course he would. I wasn't expecting it to upset me as much as it did.

Weston has been here for a little while, I have been wrapped up in his arms since the moment he came, or at least I remember it that way. Now we have fallen back to my bed, laying down against my unmade sheets.

His hand clutches the back of my head as his other strokes my back gently.

We have been laying here for what felt like hours but I didn't realise how much I needed it. He was dressed in a blazer, suit and trousers. Didn't he have work?

What was he doing trying to help my pathetic self?

After breaking up with him, ignoring his messages, his calls. Shutting him out completely. And yet he's here trying to comfort me?

I clench my eyes shut, releasing another batch of tears.

That just proves what kind of person he is. Too caring. The world doesn't deserve him.

Maybe I didn't deserve him. He's the only person that can calm me, that can comfort me, that can stop me from feeling lonely. I needed him more than I knew. Just touching his body made me feel like home, it's like I fit so perfectly inside his arms, face buried into his collarbone.

I have my place. This is my place.

Weston pulls back gently and takes one glance at my face, I avert my gaze. Even though I didn't have my glasses on, I could still see his expression and I couldn't hack the stare. My eyes glance away.

"Micah," he whispers before placing his warm hand on my cold cheek, brushing away a lone tear that covered my cheek. "What's going on?"

I couldn't look at him. I just couldn't. It hurt too much.

Time ticked by and no words formed in my mouth.

"Please," Weston whispers desperately. "Talk to me. I'm worried about you."

My heart clenches at his words, of course he's worried about me. I've been non-existing for God knows how long. He has the right to be worried when I'm being a hot mess.

I part my lips in an attempt to speak, my lips felt so incredibly dry as I lick them once. My throat clenches painfully, I'm not sure exactly what I wanted to say or how to say it. How can you say it? There is no beating around the bush with cancer.

"My mums not well," I say after a few moments.

Weston's thumb stops on my cheek as I continue to look down. "What's the matter with her?"

My lips purse, fighting back tears because I couldn't possibly cry anymore with how dehydrated I currently am.

"She has a tumour on her brain. It's cancerous."

Saying those words cut right through my heart and when Weston didn't jump at saying anything straight away, I glance up at him for the first time.

His dark brown eyes bore into mine, I couldn't distinguish his expression but I guess there is only one way to react when someone mentions cancer. You be empathetic.

He closes his eyes for a brief second, the warmth of his hand still radiating through my skin. "I'm sorry Micah," He exhales.

"There isn't anything you can do, so why apologise?"

Weston's lip falls into a frown and he nods. "It felt like the right thing to say. Have you spoken to her?"

"Not since Thursday," my voice is a little louder.

"How is she in herself?"

I shrug and flick my eyes over Weston's face slowly. "She cried, obviously being told you have cancer isn't something you want to hear. I tried not to cry because I wanted to be strong for her but it was hard. I didn't want it to be about me."

Weston hums gently, his gaze laying firmly on my eyes. "She just needs your support," he whispers. "She needs your love, she needs your affections. That's all you can do."

My eyes close painfully. That's all you can do. Those words haunt me because Weston isn't wrong, there isn't anything else I can do because I can't magically cure her. I can't put her into private care to get her better treatment. I can't do anything that can benefit her health.

"I know," I mutter eventually. "That is what is destroying me. I can't do anything, I can't make it go away. I can't get her better care. I can't do anything. I'm completely useless."

I didn't even realise I was crying again until Weston's soft thumb brushes away my tears, taking his time to swipe each one.

"That's not true," he shakes his head. I take one glance back at him and bore my eyes into his. Listening as he speaks. "You're her son. All she needs is you to be there for her. To support and to care. You don't need to treat her like a different person, she's still your mum and she's still Nicola. She just wants you to be there for her."

My lips quiver at his kind words and I breathe out harshly. "I'm scared I'm going to lose her." I admit.

Weston shuffles impossibly closer to me, our noses almost touching. "You don't have to think about that, okay? Think positive, don't drown yourself in negative thoughts. You'll just mentally drain yourself."

I purse my lips and glance down, I knew he was right. I could sit here for days, withering away like a pathetic human instead of being there for my mother, trying to put my life back together from this clear misery.

Nothing is said for a few moments, I don't think I can say much else before I break down again. So I change the subject. "Don't you need to be at work?" My throat croaks.

Weston holds my gaze and offers me a smile. "This is more important."

My eyes flick between his slowly, drinking in his words. Slowly feeling my heart begin to warm, gratefulness filtering through my body. I never realised how much I needed this talk, especially with Weston.

He didn't even need to be here, to care for me. But he was and deep down I was so pleased. Knowing that he still cares made me feel worthy after my few days of self-pity.

Weston tilts his head and presses a delicate kiss to my forehead. The gesture was soft and simple but it meant a thousand different things to me.

Maybe I had been to blasé with what happened between us, took the first piece of information and convinced myself that our whole relationship was a lie. But knowing that he's here with me right now, taking time out of work to care for my tentative needs.

I had made a mistake. A big fucking mistake.

How could I have turned my back on him when he's only given me nothing but love?

He should be annoyed at me, for not hearing him out, for turning my back on our relationship so easily. He should be annoyed at me, not here trying to make me feel better.

"Can I make you something?" His voice cuts through my train of thought. "Or we could order something. You need to eat."

I lick my dry lips and nod once.  "It's probably a good idea."

"Do you have any food in the kitchen?"

My eyes give him one look and he opens his mouth. "Ah," he says shortly. "Of course not. I'll order something for us."

He doesn't move an inch after speaking but instead keeps our bodies close. "What's the time?" I ask.

"Approaching noon," he nods.

I purse my lips. "You've been here for hours."

"And I'll be here for double the hours to make sure that you're okay."

My eyes filter with tears again, I shuffle forward and bury my head into his neck. Weston's arms wrapping around me instantly as I attempt to halt my tears, not wanting to make his shirt any more damp than it already is.

Weston's lips press to the top of my head over and over. "Let's order some food," he mumbles before pulling out his phone and scrolling through his notifications. He ignores them all and goes straight to the UberEats app. "What are you fancying?"

"I don't know," I admit. "Not sure what I can stomach right now."

"Shall we get paninis or toasties?" He suggests. "They'll be easy on your stomach if you haven't eaten in a couple of days."

I nod because I don't want to waste any more of his time. Soon he orders for us and slides his phone away, not once taking his hands off my body.

"I smell, I'm sorry," I grumble without thinking.

The corner of Weston's mouth flicks at my comment. "That's the last thing I'm worried about, Micah."

"I just wanted to let you know," my mouth runs dry.

"I don't care," he shakes his head, pulling my body gently into his. His hand runs up and down my back supportively. "I really don't care."

My nose begins to sniffle again and Weston cradles my cheek. "Please don't cry," he murmurs. "I hate seeing you cry."

"I'm sorry," I croak.

Weston releases a soft sigh and pulls back, still holding my face in his hands. "Don't be sorry," he frowns. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"I think I have a lot to be sorry for," I whisper before pursing my lips.

His brow creases at my words but if he asked a single question I knew I'd be drowning in tears. This moment was far too emotional to comprehend, Weston's mouth opens but he shuts in instantly and nods.

"We can talk about it later," he says. "Right now, I just want to make sure that you're okay."

And there he goes, shattering my heart to pieces with his kindness.

. . .

Read the rest of the story and 2 epilogues over on Patreon!
www.patreon.com/dreammcatcher
Link is also in bio!

Awwww has Micah finally realised that he's made a mistake?

My heart absolutely breaks for him and Nicola though😢😢😢

I adore how selfless Weston is, he really putting everything and his work on hold to make sure Micah is okay

What did you guys think of this chapter?

Have you finally got some hope for the pair of them?

Hope everyone is well, thank you for reading! Don't forget to vote. Love Sav x

Insta: SavRose.x
Patreon: dreammcatcher
Tik Tok: savanna.rose.x