By Request: Mike is too afraid to tell you how he feels.
I assume by this he feels in love, so whoever sent this in, correct me if I’m wrong! As is, here we go:
Mike could feel his hands break out in a cold clammy sweat. Oh no, here we go again, he thought, wiping them off on his jeans. He looked in your direction, noting the swoop of your hair and the way your eyes scanned the crowd in the busy restaurant, sharp eyes that reminded him of a hawk’s. He admire those eyes so.
"Go on," Davy murmured, "talk to her." He had his eyes on a girl on the other side of the room, his love of the day. Or maybe only the hour…
Mike took a deep breath, did his best to make his hands less clammy, and walked in your direction. He seemed to shrink shyly when you spotted him.
"Hello," he said as he approached you. He offered a smile, one that you returned. Oh good, at least I got a smile, he thought, That’s something anyway.
He took a seat across from you, looking down and fiddling his thumbs. a nervous trait that was very uncharacteristic for him. ”So…” he drawled, “I’m glad you made it.”
You smiled. ”I was beginning to think you weren’t going to.”
He ducked his head bashfully.
"I’m glad you did," you continued, noting that his head popped up again and his eyes sparkled.
"Yeah? I… Thank you," he replied awkwardly, clearing his throat. He wanted so bad to tell you, to get it out in the open, but didn’t want to mess anything up. He already had you as a friend, and he would be an idiot to lose his most valued friendship. At the same time, he wanted so much to say it, say how he really felt, and see if you felt the same. "You know… You look very nice today."
You blush a little. ”Thanks, Mike. You do, too.”
"You look nice every day," he added, then paused before continuing, "There’s… there’s something I want to tell you."
"What is it?" you ask, thinking you might know the answer. He hadn’t been doing a great job of hiding it, leaving little hints in the way he talked to you, the way he acted around you. His eyes gave it away with the sneak peaks he took out of the corner of his vision, his lips twitched when he was with you, as if wanting a kiss. His attention focused on you more than anything.
He looked around, almost in a panic. ”I… Oh it’s nothing. Nevermind.”
"No," you beg, "Tell me. What is it?"
He shook his head. ”It’s stupid.”
You place a hand over his on the table, holding it supportively, butterflies flitting around in your stomach as they did the same in his. ”I’m sure it’s not stupid,” you argue softly.
With that, Mike’s face turns a blush red you’ve never seen on him before. He takes a breath, encouraged by your supportive gaze. He says your name, savoring each sound, each letter. ”I… I think I love you.” His heart pounded, his brain called the words back, wanting them to come back, to never have been said. But it was too late. The words he feared to say had escaped his lips, and weren’t going back.
He looked confused as your grin widened, then relief as you say back, “You know, I think I love you too, Mike Nesmith.”