hi everyone. my name is mika. i’m a 20 year old college student struggling everyday to get her shit done. this is probably my 3rd time trying to make an active studyblr because i end up getting stuck in my own little vortex of anxiety and depression. i humbly apologize to those whom have followed me because i suddenly vanished for a couple of months. i’m back now and i’ll try to do my best to keep my blog up and going.
a few facts about me: - i’m in college since i was 16 (i shifted majors twice) - i’m currently a diplomacy student - i have a manic-depressive disorder which causes me to not get my shit together everyday. - i love baby’s breath (flowers) - i started blogging way back in 2010 but stopped since the tumblr environment became competitive, making me lose my spirit (until i found out about the studyblr community) - I’m an all A student in the following: clumsiness, weirdness, forgetfulness, craziness - i love to laugh - i have the best boyfriend in the world (he’s the person i get support from especially since i’m away from my family) - i hope to graduate soon and be able to help my country through diplomatic affairs
the reason why i keep coming back to this community is because probably after being so long here in this platform, i see that it’s one of the communities that really just wants to be there for other bloggers. A community that wants to inspire and to help others and here i am thinking “hey, i want to be part of this wonderful community too.” i am here because i want to get inspired and get organized. i also want to be heard and maybe even help someone on their journey. so you who is reading this, i hope you watch over me as i grow.
Summary: Mika thinks about Maxwell during the engagement tour, and a little glimpse of them after.
This is also my submission for ChoicesCreates, Round 30, prompt “Reunited”. A big thank you to @captainsugarcakes for hosting this week! :) Also tagging @holly-park.
looks for him in every crowded room. When she’s surrounded by people
who think she doesn’t pick up on their snide comments, and she wishes
she could show them exactly how she would deal with them if they were in
New York, her eyes seek his, until it becomes a habit. His familiar
blue eyes and that cheeky grin always bring her back down, enough that
she can force a smile on her face and make inane small talk until he
comes and rescues her.
to be a couple to throw everyone off of the investigating they’re doing
becomes second nature, even after the rumors start swirling that she’s
just jumping to Maxwell after Liam rejected her. It stings when she
hears that; not the comments that Liam rejected her (because as
wonderful as he is, she’s not in love with him, and if she’s going by
the looks he gives her at nearly every opportunity, he’s not rejecting her), but because it angers her that
people think she only wants a title and fame. The implication that
Maxwell is somehow so far beneath Liam bothers her too, but Mika knows
how obsessed the nobility are with their titles.
always sticks up for her, which sends a rush of warmth through her. She’s more than
capable of sticking up for herself, but she knows that calling someone a
two-faced snob with a stick up their ass would probably give Bertrand a
heart attack. So she settles for hugging Maxwell pointedly, cuddling
into his side, and calling him cutesy nicknames if she’s feeling
particularly annoyed with the snotty nobility.
she also likes to sneak her hand into his and press a kiss to his
cheek. It seems to take him by surprise the first few times she does it,
his eyes widening, but then he gets used to it and responds by
squeezing her hand, or tightening his arm around her waist. Mika
relishes those moments, though she always feels a faint twinge of
guilt when Liam sees them, because it puts a sad look on his face.
doesn’t bring up that she told Bertrand and Maxwell that she has
feelings for someone else again, because there never seems to be an
appropriate time. Between the gatherings and traveling and trying to
find the perpetrator of this whole mess, she can’t find a good moment to
remind them, and they never ask. She suspects Bertrand hopes that
she’ll just magically change her mind and decide she wants Liam, and
Maxwell…well. Mika isn’t sure what Maxwell is thinking.
not thinking that she’s fallen in love with him; of that much she’s
certain. She tells herself the way that he’s started holding her closer
when they dance, the looks she sometimes sees him giving her that make
her breath catch, and the way he’s started automatically taking her hand
when they enter the room, are all just part of him playing the role of
being a couple.
efforts to uncover the traitor and clear her name stall for a few weeks
after the engagement tour starts, until they finally manage to find
Tariq. Convincing him to come back and reveal everything he knows takes
some time, but eventually he agrees. It doesn’t take long once he’s back
in the country for everything to come to light.
is relieved to have her name cleared, and happy for Liam that he won’t
be forced to marry Madeleine, but the smile Liam gives her when the
engagement is officially ended gives her a sinking feeling. What is she
supposed to tell him?
Liam knocks on her door later that night, she still hasn’t figured out
what to say. But it turns out she doesn’t have to say much of anything,
because he takes her hand and asks her if she wants to marry him.
hesitates, unsure how to answer honestly without breaking his heart,
and Liam gives her a sad smile, squeezing her hand. Mika doesn’t cry
easily, but the tears start rolling as she apologizes, tells him she
wanted to tell him how she felt, but she didn’t know how or when. He’s
understanding and sweet, like he’s always been, and asks her if Maxwell
knows she has feelings for him. She looks at him in surprise. Liam
smiles, then bids her good night.
He pauses at the door, turning back for a moment. “Maxwell’s a lucky man,” he says.
gets ready for bed in a near daze, methodically brushing her teeth,
washing her face, and changing into pajamas. There’s an insistent knock
at her door, and she grumbles that she’s coming as she opens it. She’s
not expecting to see Maxwell, but there he is. His usual black
button-down is noticeably absent, replaced by a white tee.
just stares at her, and if it weren’t for the situation they’re in,
she’d probably giggle. She’s never seen Maxwell speechless. Mika steps
aside so he can enter her room.
“Did you turn Liam down?” he finally asks.
She shrinks away from him, just a little. “Yes, but how did you-”
“Did you turn him down because you have feelings for me?”
goes to tell him yes, of course it’s because she has
feelings for him, but the words won’t come as she stares down at the
carpet, her crimson toenails a stark contrast to the plush white fibers
under her feet. What if he rejects her? Tells her they can’t be
together, or that he doesn’t even think of her that way?
is suddenly standing right in front of her, tilting her chin up, then
cupping her face in his hands. He whispers her name, brushing his thumb
over her lips. Mika shivers at the sensation, and she watches as his
pupils dilate. Her arms move up, her hands threading in his hair of
their own volition, and she buries her face into the side of his neck,
breathing in the scent of his cologne.
sighs her name again, bringing his arms around her back. When they pull
apart, just slightly, Maxwell brushes her hair back from her face.
he finally asks, his voice low, brow furrowed in confusion . “Liam can
give you everything. I can’t give you anything.”
She brushes a kiss over his cheek. “I don’t want things,” she murmurs. “You know me better than that.”
He chuckles quietly. “I do. I just don’t want you to…regret anything.”
“I won’t. I don’t,” she reassures him.
stays with her that night, their hands and lips exploring bare skin as
he makes love to her. She likes the way her name sounds on his lips as he touches her, and the way he stays wrapped around her all night when
they finally drift off to sleep.
flies back to New York the next day, and Maxwell promises he’ll be
there as soon as he can, kissing her deeply before she heads to the
security line. Mika tears up as he disappears out of sight. She tries to
shake the sadness off, knowing that she’ll see him again soon, but it
lingers, all through her flight and the taxi ride home.
calls her before she goes to sleep that night, his voice soothing and
reassuring. He calls her before she goes to sleep every night after that
for three weeks, reassuring her each time that he’s just getting some
things straightened out before he comes to her, and then one night, he
doesn’t call. Mika texts him good night, but he doesn’t answer.
lays in bed, awake all night, cursing herself internally for getting so
upset over it. Sure, it’s out of character for Maxwell not to respond
to her texts almost immediately, but there are a hundred logical reasons
why he didn’t. There are no texts or calls from him the next night
either, and she starts to wonder, with a sinking feeling, if he’s
changed his mind.
has a dream that night that she’s back in Cordonia, trying to find
Maxwell. The building in her dream looks like House Beaumont, but it’s
full of endless hallways and millions of doors. She pounds on every
door, hoping to find him, but the rooms are always empty or locked.
wakes up groggy and confused, the knocking sound from her dream still
rattling around in her head. She sits up, then realizes with a start
that the knocking from her dream has now manifested into someone knocking on her apartment door. Sliding her slippers on, she
cracks the door open, the chain-lock securely in place.
she trails off when she sees who’s there, then hurriedly shuts the door
and undoes the lock before pulling it back open.
He grins at her sheepishly, a suitcase at his feet. “Hey.”
“What are you doing here?” she asks, frowning and crossing her arms.
Maxwell looks genuinely confused. “I mean…I told you I’d come. So…here I am?”
of her nosy neighbors pokes his head out, so Mika quickly pulls Maxwell
inside and shuts the door, ushering him over to her dining room table.
“What are you talking about? You didn’t tell me you were coming today.”
story,” Maxwell says, sitting in a chair next her and giving her that sad puppy dog look as she
narrows her eyes at him. “I wanted to surprise you and just show up. But
I left my phone charger at home and my phone died. Then my flight got
delayed, then it was overbooked, and then it got delayed again. By the time I realized how late I was going to
be and bought another charger, they finally got us on the plane.”
He looks at her pleadingly. “Did you think…oh, Mika, did you think I’d changed my mind?”
drops to his knees in front of her and takes one of her hands in his,
his other hand cupping her face. “You did. I’m so sorry,” he says.
He frowns. “This was kind of a terrible plan, in hindsight.”
Mika chokes out a laugh as she leans into his touch. “No, it was…sweet. It’s such a you thing to do.”
“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or an insult,” Maxwell laughs.
“Both,” she teases, then leans in and brushes her lips over his.
yanks her closer to him and Mika laughs as they tumble to the floor,
Maxwell grunting as she lands on top of him. He grins up at her, running
his hands down her back and over her thighs.
“So, I spent three weeks away from you, and two days thinking you were
ditching me,” Mika says, propping herself up on his chest. “You owe
“That’s fair. What do I owe you?”
“Breakfast,” she declares. “I’m hungry.”
“Breakfast? Or breakfast in bed?” Maxwell waggles his eyebrows at her, and she laughs.
“Actual breakfast, Maxwell. But…I could probably be sweet-talked into the bed part after.”
Characters : Mikael Boukhal, Adam Malik, Even Bech Næsheim, Yousef Acar, Elias Bakkoush, Muttasim Billah.
- In which Mikael freaked out and lashed at Even for kissing him, because he was secretly in a relationship with Adam Malik.
- Mikael Overlie Boukhal and Adam Malik are together romantically, but Adam, unlike his lover, isn’t fully coming to terms with doing what he thinks his religion views to be a sin.
Chapter One : Mates From Among Eachother
The minutes passed slowly, as if holding between their seconds grande ages that time couldn’t sweep forwards in a blink of an eye. Mikael felt the vast moments absorbed by every second, forbidding the world from moving forwards. For it was his own tale stuck between the seconds and minutes of the clock. It was immensly heavy, he almost felt time push his shoulders, crying for him to lighten his heart and let the world go on freely by its laws.
It wasn’t possible for Mikael though. He couldn’t let his past crumble behind and be swept by time forwards. He couldn’t do but hold still, chained by the memories. His consciousness of time was almost non-existent, and that of the world poured from between his fingers, as his eyes stared into nowhere. He could swear his eyes watched inside his mind. He could swear the world fell off its grounds and emmerged only him. Either the world sucked him in, or he sucked the world into him, for he could only think and feel himself; that mess of a mind.
It wasn’t a pretty sight. Thoughts flying around and questions colliding. Nothing sitting still, nothing making sense. Not that he couldn’t make sense of it all, not that he couldn’t rid himself off this misery, but he wasn’t free to act. He was emprisoned by morals that, somehow, being a human had obliged him to adopt. The unwritten rule of hiding the mess of loved ones under the rubble and protecting them from what could come of harm from them or from others. He couldn’t know how but he found himself following the rule and, thus, losing his well-being in the process.
A dear friend of his, one named Even, had done- one among many- an act of oddness. In fact, it was nothing to be frowned up. A mere kiss on the lips, a usual emboddiement of attraction and translation of love. It wasn’t odd from Even’s side, it was odd from Mikael’s side. He couldn’t handle the heavy messages sent through the kiss, beyond the attraction.
He saw his friend drawing new patterns he had never swam in between. It was as if each human lives inside a framing; one we paint through living but it’s firmly stable to keep us in order, and suddenly the framing breaks, then nothing makes sense. Our eyes can’t read the new visions, our minds can’t comprehend the new uncoded language spoken. Even broke his framing, he was skating out, away. And Mikael couldn’t understand the hazardness, everything was read off as odd.
And so, he couldn’t figure out why Even kissed him. But he wasn’t sliding back to his past to confront him, nor was he marching forwards to tell the ones who deserved to know. He just rolled at a halt now, stuck in time. He couldn’t push himself forwards and tell the man with whom he shared his heart that another had kissed him. Not just any other, it was Even Bech Næsheim; their bestfriend from little age.
He knew Adam Malik too well to vomit out the confusion to him. Adam, although a friend of Even himself, wouldn’t be as confused to know of the incident. Indeed, confusion wouldn’t be what will fill his mind upon hearing Even kissed his boyfriend, it would be anger and furiosity.
Mikael’s body was as glued to the wall as Iblis is to sin. He had been sitting there for three hours. His limbs refusing to budge, his eyelids refusing to move and even his tears refusing to fall. His chest was barely moving up and down in sync with his breathing. Barely. For the heaviness of the secrets sitting on his chest almost put his heart to a deafening silence. It is a human’s most destructive weapon; a secret. That and hatred. Mikael’s heart fortunately was as white as milk, not a drop of hatred towards no one. However, secret upon a secret, the rocks fell into the bowl and the milk poured out, falling here and there, escaping his heart as if Iblis had been chanting evil words to him continuously the night before.
“Why am I even hiding…” , the words left his mouth like saliva from someone’s lips on a fasting Ramadan day, “…love ?”, he could swear he heard SYML’s The War playing in his head. Appearing out of the crazy chaos in his head to portray his emotions, much to his ignorance, and somehow managing to decipher his puzzle of a question. They say the mind works in boxes, that, from time to time, a box steals in a wordly item from our surroundings to stick into it moments from our lives, as we live. Sometimes, it’s smells, and other times, it’s songs. Like SYML’s The War. That song had its box in Mikael’s mind, and had its memories stuck to it that would rise to surface when Mikael hears the song, or the other way around.
So his question about why he was hiding his relationship with Adam and why they decided to keep their love a secret, was the suitable thought to provoke the box to open up and let out that song. For, now, his mind jumped back to a memory, one that gives him the answer.
* * *
“And among His signs is this, that He created for you mates from among yourselves that you may dwell in tranquility with, and He has put love and mercy between your hearts…” , Mikael read off the Qu’ran in Arabic to Adam, not finishing off the twenty-one verse of Surah Al-Rum, only absorbing from it which he wanted his lover to hear. A big smile appeared on his lips as he let the word “hearts” trail in the air, as if he just discovered the preciousness of the world in the words he had just read, to an Adam who seemed a little less happy about the seemingly big revelation that fell upon Mikael from the clouds.
“Allah has made me of you, and you of me !” , he ecxlaimed, closing off the Qu’ran on his lap and moving closer in bed to the blue-to-green eyes man. Adam wasn’t receptive to the excitement that ran through Mikael though. In fact, his eyes roamed, searching in the eyes of the smiling boy for a hint of anything that would tell him Mikael wasn’t serious. But he was.
“Ah. If I were a girl, yeah.” , Adam let out a sigh despite of himself, as he watched Mikael’s eyes and lips drop, a cloud of darkness fell over his head.It wasn’t the first time Mika had Adam refuse his thoughts, he thought his boyfriend to be deep into the negative reading of Islam, it would take more than one time of introducing the words of Allah to him under a sweet light, it would take continuous collisions of their relationship with religion. He knew he had to move loads of rocks down the river but he refused to see him drenched by guilt and even dislike towards his own being, thinking he wasn’t accepted by his own creator.
Here stands a man at the bottom of a hole he’s made, Still sweating from the rush, His body tense, his hands, they shake,
It was then, on the sole radio sitting on the salon’s table next to Adam’s room, SYML’s The War started playing. Barely heard, but with the silence swimming between them and the little words jumping from one to another, the song was a clear tune playing in their heads at that moment.
Adam took a hold of the Qu’ran and shoved it inside the drawer. “Stop trying to merge between Islam and…”, he sounded more hurt than upset, almost sweating of shame, as if he was caught naked, “…us.”, he felt nude. Under the eyes of Allah. Not that He wasn’t always watching, but the thought was always at the back of his head, burried, but with Mikael reading the Qu’ran, it couldn’t be escaped. He couldn’t help but feel sin crawling into him as if worms were eating his skin.
Don’t you ever leave me alone, Be my shelter from the storm, My war is over, I am a sad boy,
As the song came to an end, the last words ringing in their heads, it was almost a promise to keep both lives seperate, to Allah was the five prayers and to Mikael was what fell between them. And it was also abvious that what Adam wasn’t comfortable in with his own self, he wasn’t comfortable in with his friends, so it needn’t words from any of them to know that what pulled them together was a secret to be burried.
* * *
Mikael thought if their love was flying around them, revealed for everyone that even the trees and flowers of Oslo knew of an Adam and a Mikael in love, then maybe Even wouldn’t have kissed him. And maybe then, he wouldn’t have reacted in the certain manner he did towards Even.
The phone buzzed in his pocket, not for the first time but it was only now that he made sense of it, his grasp of life around him finally breaking into his soul. It was a call from Akhoy, which was what Mikael had Adam registred under as his contact. Akhoy is Egyptian Arabic for Brother, in a Sa’idi dialect for a humorous touch, Mikael thought it to be witty. It was the equivalent of Khoya in Moroccan Darija, the word that Adam used to call Mika more than his own name. Apparently, in Morocco, it was a thing to refer to eachother as Khoya for men and Khti for women as a direct tradition falling from the precious words of Allah : “Humanity is but a big brotherhood, so make peace with your brethren.”. Not that it wasn’t common in Egypt either, but Adam didn’t seem to know any conversational tricks but to call every soul Khoya.
He picked up, but he didn’t utter a word, his fragility working its way to the surface. “Where are you, man? Been calling and sending messages, why you not answering ?”, Adam’s worry was apparent, bursting from his voice into Mikael’s heart, warming him at the realization that Adam was there. At least he had him to worry about him, to hear from him. But it also worried him himself, that the man he loved was rendered into a ball of worry after his disappearance for only a few hours, and that the only man he confined in wasn’t to be his cushion of comfort from the guilt of what he perceived to be a horrible deed he had done upon a friend.
“At your place. By the door.” , because Mikael couldn’t let his bruised self fall into the arms of his lover, he thought he’d let the shadows of his being embrace his pain instead, so he headed to Adam’s home and just sat by the door, leaning on the wall, crunched down onto the floor, his clothes almost swallowing him away from life.
“What?”, his question reeked off confusion and a little bit of dread even, but it wasn’t met with an answer, “Alright, coming!” , his words trailed, Mikael hummed a “Hmm” in response, hanging up, and just drowned even more into his own clothes.
It wasn’t a grave sin that nastily dragged Mikael into this cave of suffocating gloominess, it was the obligation, sitting on his throat like a sharp knife, to keep his insides inside only. If there was anything that blew Mikael off his feet, then it was filling himself up to no end. He couldn’t, to save his life, keep a word sewed to his tongue. If only he could tell Adam, and if only Adam could understand that Even was in disorder.
Aw man I forgot that pronounciation varies a lot up here because of regionality, should have accounted for that. Alright, up here a lot of people say Michael like 'Mick-HAI-ael' instead of the original way of saying it
Where is that? In Mexico? I’m amazed.
I guess it makes sense. Sometimes, when my mom’s angry at England or USA, she’d pronounce English names like they’re read in Spanish. Heck she translated the name “Melanie” into “Mélani” for me (which uuuh doesn’t make sense) only because “WE’RE ARGENTINIAN, MÉLANI, YOU CAN’T HAVE A NAME IN ANOTHER LANGUAGE” and so my name is “Mélani” purely out of spite.
7 years later she forced me to learn English but that’s another story.
ANYWAY, REMEMBER WHEN THE FIRST TRANSLATIONS OF THE MANGA WOULD HAVE MIKAELA’S NAME AS “MICHAEL” AND HIS NICKNAME “MIKA” AS “MICH”.
Yuu x Mika in modern AU where mika is human and both of them are going to university and mika gets a flu, yuu stays with him and takes care of him but afer he gets it too. :3 thank you~
Yuu was in what he liked to call a long distance relationship. He lived in a shared dormitory with his roommate Katsuo, while his boyfriend Mika lived off campus in a university-owned apartment. They were distanced by Ueno Park, a kilometre wide expanse of fields, trees and ponds, a common source for arguments among the couple about who should cross the park to see who. Often, Mika and Yuu simply met halfway, literally, bringing food and sitting together in the grass and studying, talking, kissing if there weren’t many people around. With this distance between them, you can imagine Yuu’s reaction when he got a phone call from Mika one morning before his nine o'clock lecture that went something like this:
“Hey, Mika.” Yuu muttered, still half asleep (Yuu was definitely not a morning person). He turned away from the crowd of university students milling outside their classroom and lowered his voice so not to disturb them.
“Yuu….” Mika uttered, his voice hoarse and frail like an old man’s. Immediately Yuu was wide awake, listening anxiously to his boyfriend. “Please come here…. I need you….”
With that, the call ended.
“Mika!?” Yuu yelled, no longer caring about preserving the silent atmosphere. Heads turned to look at him, but Yuu was already off, bolting down the corridor. As he ran, he passed his professor, who sighed and remarked
“It’s your credit at stake, not mine.” And simply kept walking to class. Yuu persevered in the opposite direction, desperate to close the distance between himself in Mika as fast as possible.
Yuu sprinted across campus, then through Ueno Park, not stopping for anything. It occurred to him that Mika could have just been tired or drunk, and yet Yuu had still come running without even questioning it. He couldn’t care less. If Mika was tired, he could sleep with him. If Mika was drunk, they could order a pizza together and he could help him sober up before their midday lectures. If it was something grave…. Yuu had every reason to be running.
When he arrived at Mika’s apartment, he unlocked the door with the spare key Mika had bestowed upon him, then stepped inside and kicked off his sneakers in the entrance.
“Mika??” Yuu called, but only silence called back. A quick scan through the building revealed Mika to be curled up in bed shivering, cheeks flushed and a sheen of sweat glistening on his face. “Mika!?”
At the sound of his name, Mika stirred and blinked sleepily. His blonde hair was a tangled mess, some strands damp or completely matted to his forehead by sweat.
“I’m glad you came….” he whispered, a frail smile spreading across his tired face.
“Thank god you’re okay!” Yuu cried, leaning over and tightly embracing his boyfriend. Mika laughed weakly.
“Don’t hug me,” he croaked. “I’m sick.”
Yuu backed off and sat on the edge of the bed. “Why did you call me?” He asked.
“I woke up like this, and I just thought it was best for you to be by my side. You know, in case I faint or something.” Mika explained listlessly, and promptly burst into a fit of coughing. The effort of it seemed to drain most of his energy in an instant.
The sight of his boyfriend like this felt distressing to Yuu. He desperately wanted to help him, but when he thought about it in more detail he realised he actually had no idea how to make Mika feel better. He stared cluelessly at his boyfriend, and then gave up and demanded bluntly “What should I do?” Mika swallowed and winced before speaking.
“Just sleeping in your presence will be enough.” He told Yuu, rolling over and pulling the blankets higher over his feverish body.
“It’s not enough.” Yuu protested, tugging Mika’s blanket. Mika tugged back with as much strength as he could muster from fatigued and aching muscles.
“You clearly have a high fever, Mika! I have to cool you down!”
“I am shivering.”
“You are sweating!” Yuu argued, tugging the blankets even harder. The sad little keening noise that escaped Mika’s sore throat shattered Yuu’s heart. “L-look, Mika, this is what’s good for you! I’ll be right back with some medicine for you!”
Yuu slipped down to the convenience store on the first floor of Mika’s building and bought throat lozenges and lemon tea. He was losing his mind with worry; Mika was extremely upsetting to watch right now. Yuu took a deep breath outside Mika’s bedroom, vowing to do everything he could to help Mika feel better. Then he burst into Mika’s room, shopping bag in hand, and froze in horror at what Mika had become in the space of five minutes.
Mika lay sprawled across the bed, still flushed and shivering, eyes half closed. He looked like an angel of death was pulling his soul out of his body and had given up midway. It even looked like Mika could feel his soul being snatched, his face contorted with pain. Yuu crept over to the bed and tenderly brushed Mika’s damp hair out of his face.
“I brought back throat lozenges and some lemon drink. Which do you want?” He announced, trying to sound a lot more level headed than he felt at the sight of Mika being so miserable.
“Lemon drink….” Mika mumbled. He sat up and coughed, then flinched in pain.
“What’s wrong?” Yuu demanded, trying to solve things in a straightforward manner.
“Nothing….” Mika replied hoarsely. Yuu passed him the lemon tea, alight with hope and excitement. He watched as Mika took a sip of the tea and then set it on the bedside table, staring at the floor sadly.
“Mika, seriously! What’s wrong?” Yuu demanded again, completely deflated from the failed attempt at cheering up his boyfriend.
“Everything.” Mika finally answered bitterly. At this point, things were going downhill much too fast. As the last thing he could think of, Yuu simply pulled Mika close to him.
Mika responded by laying Yuu down on the bed. He grabbed Yuu’s shirt in two different places and pulled himself closer to his boyfriend until there was no space between them. They nestled into each other and intertwined their legs. Yuu placed one hand on Mika’s back, cradling his hot head with the other.
“Aren’t I better than a blanket?” Yuu whispered gently into Mika’s hair.
“Thanks for skipping classes for me.” Mika sighed tiredly.
“I’ll never leave you alone.” Yuu promised.
Mika nodded into Yuu’s chest. “I love you.” He whispered out of nowhere. A smile spread across Yuu’s face that he couldn’t help and he hugged Mika tighter.
“I love you too.” Yuu whispered.
The rest of the day passed with Mika and Yuu in each others’ arms. Yuu massaged Mika’s shoulders, arms, or wherever else Mika requested to help soothe his aching body. He cooked soup for himself and Mika. Aside from eating, all they did was sleep together in a tangled mess.
Yuu woke up early the next morning with many missed calls from his room mate back on campus. Everything other than Mika felt a world away, but out of curiosity Yuu carefully slid himself out of Mika’s embrace and checked his voicemails in the living room.
“Hey, Yuu! It’s Katsuo. People are saying you ran away just as class was beginning! Got a booty call from Mika or something?? Anyway, I’ve got you covered with all the notes from today’s lecture for you to copy down! Call me when you get this.”
“Hey, Yuu. Are you two having a good time there? Um… I kind of locked my keys in the dorm. If you don’t come home soon I might have to scale the building again. Also, you said we would play Resident Evil tonight.”
“Hey, Yuu? What are you up to? Is everything okay? I climbed into our dorm and your books aren’t even there. Are you still out—” The message was cut off by a loud bang, and a booming voice hollering
“POLICE! GET DOWN ON THE GROUND AND PUT YOUR HANDS WHERE WE CAN SEE THEM!”
“You don’t understand! I live here! I was locked out—”
A clatter followed, and Katsuo’s voice became distant.
“Let me go! I’m a student!”
The voicemail ended there with a beep. Yuu clicked the last voicemail, stomach sinking with dread.
“Hey…. Yuu. I’m in a mini jail cell looking thing right now because my Student ID hasn’t been updated since I dyed my hair. Please pick me up?”
After a short morning walk to the police station to verify his roommate’s identity, Yuu immediately returned to his boyfriend’s side. Mika was still sick with what they now knew to be the flu, so Yuu spent another day laying together with Mika. Despite him being incredibly ill, it was probably one of the longest, most intimate moments Yuu had spent with Mika. With that in mind, it was no wonder Yuu awoke the following day and immediately wished he hadn’t when he was greeted with sore muscles, a headache, nausea, fatigue and a sore throat. Somehow, even though he felt so hot, sweat rolling down his face, chills ran through his body.
Mika poked his miserable and disoriented boyfriend’s cheek and leaned over him, a huge, energetic grin plastered on his face.
“I’m better!” He cheerfully exclaimed as he twirled through the bedroom. Yuu whimpered in response and shut his eyes. “Yuu? Oh no. Yuu!”
The Grove // Commentary: It freaks me out in the cut that we used, Ju Ramsey and I cut this together–he’s the editor–and uhh and we found little jewels and gems in there. His rough cut was so good that it gave us time to, like, really search into the little things. But, when she delivers the line about, you know…yeah, “But, just sometimes.” And she looks back at her all creepy and she looks like, “You’re gonna kill me.”
I went, you know–we watched those two cuts and it freaked us out and I was like, “Replay it again! Replay it again! Look at her!” So, there were a couple moments like that, that we really found that…just became creepy. +Director Michael Satrazemis