Chapter forty-one – Not Worrying

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-October 27, 1987-

After the initial shock of hearing father's story, it took quite a while for us all to calm down. Clover didn't speak to any of us for the day; Reiss seemed okay after a few hours to himself; father simply felt guilty for not speaking sooner; and Michael ... well, he's been all over the place. He's really not been himself at all since Marco first came, anyway, though.

So what are we doing today? Michael and I are going to go on a picnic, to try and rid the terrible thoughts of the past few days from our minds, even if only for a little while. The last time we went for a picnic was before we even became a couple.

"I made the cakes, Michael," I tell him, presenting the box to him playfully. "Whatcha think?" Shaking it lightly, I smile at him, in attempt to lighten his darkened mood.

He gives a half-hearted smile, nodding to at least acknowledge my handiwork. "That's nice, Citria." He continues to pack the basket as if I said nothing to him; I know his mind is racing with negative thoughts about life.

A sigh can't help but pass my lips in sadness, as I rest my hand under his chin, lifting his head to look at me. "Please cheer up, my Angel ... I know it's hard; I'd be upset too ... But let's try and escape reality just for today?"

"It's eating me up inside, Citria ... " he admits freely, shaking his head. "Just a single thought about anything that's happened lately, and my stomach tenses up; and my heart starts to burn; and I get a nauseous feeling like I'm going to throw up ... It's killing me ... "

My hands meet his shoulders, as I rub gently to calm him down a little. "I understand that, Michael. It's been extremely tough lately – perhaps more for you than for anyone else – but thinking about the problems won't make them go away any sooner. If you just relax your mind; forget everything for a little while, then maybe ... you'll feel calmer ... less tense about everything."

He doesn't look at me at all once I've said this; his eyes flit to the floor, with no signs of moving away from it. "But it's so hard ... " he frowns, withdrawing the chair from the table, and sitting on it. Still, his eyes remain fixated on the floor.

"I know it's hard ... " Pulling another chair away from the table, I sit by his side, taking his hands in mine. "But something I've learned with losing people I love is that ... no matter how positively or negatively you think, nothing will change the fact they're gone. And it really hurts; knowing that. But it's reality, and reality really hurts ... and thinking negatively on top of that just makes everything worse. Trust me; I've learned that the heard way ... "

My words seem to turn a switch on in his mind, as he looks up at me, nodding gently in understanding. "Well, if it's you that's learned that ... then maybe I should trust it ... "

"I may not be the guru of everything, but I know how losing someone works," I comment lightheartedly. "And I know more about it than the average person, too."

"I know ... I should be thanking you, really," he murmurs, exhaling out his nose as if sighing. "Because without you and your advice, I think I'd be with my family right now ... "

"Don't say that," I demand sadly, caressing his cheek with my thumb. "You could accomplish so much without me; don't deny that. I'm not more special than any other person."

"You are ... to me." The forlorn expression he has is almost my deterrent from arguing with what he's saying.

"Well, you're special to me, too." A mellow smile makes an appearance on my face, in the hope it causes the same smile to appear on Michael's. And it does; it isn't a large grin, or anything close to that, but it's enough to reassure me he's at least okay. With this settling my mind, I get out of my chair, continuing to pack the picnic things. "Come on; we have to go to the fields for this. It'll clear our minds a lot more being in fresh air."

"Fresh air? Citria, it's Fall. It's going to be cold air." With this comment, a soft chuckle sounds from him; this causes me to smile because it's his sign that he's feeling happier, now.

"Well, then we can snuggle together and eat food," I reiterate, picturing the scene in my head already. It's an adorable one which involves a lot of warmth.

"That sounds like a perfect plan," he smiles, standing up from his seat as well. "Snuggles, cuddles, kisses and food. What more could we want? Especially when your gorgeous cupcakes are involved; they're little pieces of Heaven, individually wrapped in a little cake case."

"Somebody likes their metaphors," I remark jokily, snickering after my comment to suggest my amusement.

"The sarcasm is getting worse, Miss Espinosa. You better calm it down a little, girl." He smirks subtly as he says this; the expression he has is simply adorable.

"Sorry, Mr Jackson. Anyway ... do you remember a while ago; when Reiss moved into father's home, when he whispered something into your ear?"

"I do remember that," he answers, nodding. "Why?"

"I just wanted to know what he said. You have to be able to tell me now! It's been, like, a month." My desperation is incredibly well-hidden, if I do say so myself.

"You aren't subtle with the hinting, are you?" he asks rhetorically, shaking his head, obviously finding me funny.

"It wasn't hinting; it was fairly-obvious requesting," I correct him, heading over to the cutlery drawer and taking a couple knives, forks and spoons from it. Walking over to the basket, I put them in, before looking up at Michael. "So c'mon; tell me?"

"Nope. I'm not saying a word." He closes his eyes, squeezing them tightly as he sticks his tongue out mockingly. "And you won't know for a while yet."

"After all I do for you," I tease, closing the basket and taking it off the table. "Anyway, I think we're good to go to the fields now. Make sure you got your jacket."

"Yes, ma'am," he responds, dashing out the kitchen, and to the hallway to locate his jacket. Upon returning, he also has mine, and he hands it to me. "Here you go, My Lady."

"Such a gentleman," I smile, leaning up to kiss him briefly. As we part, I give him one final peck, before opening the back door, allowing him out first.

*  *  *

Once we've arrived at the fields, we sit at the top of the highest hill, before setting up our little feast. When we've done that, Michael is pretty keen to have one of my cupcakes, so I decide to mess with him a little. He's wearing his special fedora, so I take it from his head, and run down the hill with it – as well as the entire box of cupcakes.

"If you want a cupcake, you have to get your hat, first!" I tease, trying to get as much of a head start as possible.

It's not long before I hear him cry, "That's not fair!", and then when I look behind me, I spot him catching me up, little by little. The only element of this that works in my favour is the fact I'm used to running in these fields – Michael's only done it about three times in his life.

Perhaps Michael had a passion for track running when he was younger; he certainly knows how to run. He's almost caught up to me! I better up my game if I want to make this last a little longer.

It takes all my energy, but I manage to increase my speed just a little. This widens the gap between Michael and myself, but I know it won't last long. Michael's getting better at this "running through fields" thing, so the chances are, he'll be close behind me again in a moment.

"Come get me!" I decide to taunt, stopping for a moment and turning around to face him. As soon as I realise I'm not running, I mentally slap myself, but by the time I actually think of starting to run again, Michael catches up to me, and pushes me to the floor.

Both of us start to laugh, but then I realise all the cupcakes have been damaged, or squished against one another. Guilt takes over me as I set the box down beside me, but Michael doesn't seem to mind all that much.

"You're so easy to catch up to!" Michael jeers, looking down on me. He's actually lying on top of me right now, due to the impact of the fall. Oh, how cliché a scene like this is.

"Shut up," I demand softly, trying to appear upset that he's mocking me.

He takes the fedora from my hands, and gives me a little pout. "Aww; don't be sad, my Angel. Maybe this will make you feel better." Without allowing me to respond, he presses his lips against mine. He kisses me slowly, starting to lift me up from the floor as our eyes close fully. I feel him set the fedora on my head, before letting his arms move around my waist to hold me up.

My arms reach up to wrap around his neck, and I pull him closer to me. This is the first time we've properly kissed in days, and I've missed the warm feeling it brings to me. Unfortunately, we separate, but our gazes don't leave each other.

"I guess that makes me feel better," I breathe, in answer to his previous comment. My teeth lightly bite my bottom lip to stop myself from smiling too widely.

"I thought it would. And by the way, the fedora looks great on you." He takes a moment to look at me; taking in my every feature before bringing himself closer to me once again. "My God; I can't get over how beautiful you are."

"Stop," I snicker, swatting the air with my hand to dismiss the idea. "And ... I'm sorry about the cupcakes. It really was an accident."

"They're still edible if they're out of shape," he replies, taking the box from the ground and taking a cupcake from it. He unwraps it from its now-disfigured case, and bites into it. "Yep. It's still very edible."

Shaking my head, I take a cupcake too. "You're such an adorable little thing." After taking a bite myself, I can't help but agree that they taste good; but – not wanting to sound big-headed – I obviously keep that to myself.

"That face," Michael speaks up, looking at me with a grin. "It's so clear that you love them just as much as I do."

"And what proof do you have of that?" I interrogate playfully, squinting like a police investigator. "Provide clear evidence, and I may consider your bold claim."

He brings his head closer to mine, as if we're in a competition with one another. "Take another bite of the cupcake," he demands, his tone holding mock seriousness.

"It's on," I retort, biting from the cake again. The more I watch Michael, the more amusing this whole thing becomes; he's observing me closely, for some reason.

"The expression," he comments to himself. "The expression says it all. Your Honour, I have clear evidence to back up my bold claim. You do, in fact, enjoy the cupcakes as much as I do. And this time, you can't deny it."

"You're absolutely crazy," I scoff, rolling my eyes as if his words were ludicrous.

"I'm absolutely right," he corrects me. "And if you admit it, I might kiss you again as a reward."

"I will not be blackmailed with your affection," I state, folding my arms to show that I mean business. He will not win this little game we're playing. There's no way.

"Okay. No kisses, then." He too folds his arms, in attempt to look as similar to me as possible. In the near distance, we hear a faint noise, which then causes him to come out of his little sassy pose. His eyes contain something just short of terror. "What was that?"

"Probably some train ... I don't know," I respond, wondering why he's so nervous about it. "Calm down, Michael."

"What if it was Marco?" His follow-up question is genuine, even if Marco has nothing to do with the noise whatsoever.

"It wasn't Marco. It was just a train. It's okay," I assure him, sitting closer to him, to make him feel less alone.

"But it might not have been," he argues, concern clear in his eyes and his frown.

"Not every sound has to be Marco, you know ... " To comfort him, I rub his arm lightly, and speak my words in a soft whisper.

He turns his head and looks at me. "Okay ... it was just a train ... " He seems to be trying to tell himself that as if it really was Marco, and he's trying to stop himself from getting worked up.

"Exactly. Nothing to worry about." Realising that just a single noise could have potentially ruined our picnic, I try to change the subject. "So, what do you want to talk about?"

"Uh ... " Although he's trying to engage in the conversation I'm having with him, he keeps looking around the fields, as if he's paranoid. "Uh ... "

"He's not here," I remind him once again. "Honestly; if he were here, I'd make sure nothing happened to us, anyway."

What I just said sounded like something the male should say in a relationship. I'm actually being the protective one in this case; that's certainly different.

He nods, as if attempting to accept my words. "Just a train. Just a train ... " This reassurance doesn't stop him from looking around the fields one final time, though. He turns his attention back to me, but I can tell that he's desperate to check again. This really isn't healthy; he shouldn't be made to feel this way.

"How about we go back to our picnic, and snuggle together up on the hill?" I suggest, standing up from the spot we're currently sat in.

He follows me, but not without frantically looking around for any other signs of life. When we get to the top of the hill, he searches the other side of it; where we couldn't see when we were sat at the bottom a few moments ago.

"Michael, why are you so scared?" I ask, beginning to feel sorry for him. "Marco isn't here; I promise."

"I'm just worried. He's capable of doing anything, now." For a whole twenty seconds, he manages to maintain eye contact with me, but then he goes back to checking his surroundings again. "I'm just doing it to make sure we're one-hundred percent sure we're safe here."

"We are safe here. Stop worrying. He won't come to the park." Although this statement could be proven false, I'm pretty sure it's not going to happen.

"Okay ... okay ... " He appears to accept my words at long last, not bothering to look around again, this time. He's able to hold a conversation with me at last.

"Why don't we finish the food, then wait for the sun to set; we can watch the stars come out. Doesn't that sound nice?" I offer, shuffling myself closer to him.

He lets me sit by his side, then places an arm around me lovingly. "It sounds perfect, as long as it's with you, my Angel." He presses me against him, so that we're even closer. I can feel his warmth, and it feels good.

It's nice not worrying about Marco for a moment ...

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Chapter forty-one! This chapter was so quick to write. xD
KatieWhoWrites you can quit complaining about me not updating, now. xD
Hope you enjoyed this chapter! :)