Michael heard ringing but it took him a few minutes to realise it wasn't a dream. He peeled a lazy eye open and stared blankly at the wall in front of him. He frowned, the ringing continuing to fill the room before he realised it was the phone. Sucking in a large breath and exhaling it on a yawn, Michael rolled himself over on his bed and reached for the phone.

He was tired and dragged the receiver to his ear where he propped it against his head. "Um…hello?" he groaned into the mouthpiece in more of a sound than a word. His mouth hung open and his breathing was still relaxed and noisy.

"Michael?" the cheery voice questioned him. He didn't recognise the voice for a second and his eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "Michael Scofield?" it repeated, sounding convinced they had the wrong number. A half conscious Michael just murmured a confirming grunt into the phone. "Michael, it's Sara." She said.

Suddenly he was very awake, his eyes shot open and he sat bolt upright, shuffling to lean against his metal headboard. The metallic surface was cold on his bare skin and it tingled with the contact of hot and cold. He took a dry gulp, trying to clear his voice before answering her. "Hey," he said quickly, coughing lightly afterwards.

He could hear her smile at his sorry excuse for composure. "Did you get my message?" she asked when a silence between them indicated he had no idea why she was calling.

"Um…" Michael stuttered, trying to remember the night before. Truth was he couldn't. All he knew was his head throbbed and his eyebrow itched as well as feeling twice the size it normally did. He reached his hand up to it and pulled away quickly when he felt the stitches and the tenderness of his bruised skin.

"That's ok," Sara told him and he immediately felt guilty. "You hit your head pretty bad. You probably had a concussion," she said in a concerned tone but also a relieved one. "Michael?" she prodded him down the line with her voice when he was silent again.

"Um…yeah," he said distracted. "I'm here," he assured her as he leapt from his bed and headed into the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror, his eyebrow puffed up and purple as the stitches strained to keep the skin pulled together.

"You don't remember me do you?" Sara breathed down the phone in a miserable tone. Michael spun around to head back into his bedroom and had to catch the phone when it threatened to slip from his grasp.

"Of course I remember you Sara," he calmed her closing his eyes briefly to remember her entire beauty in his mind's vision. "I can't forget you," he suddenly owned up without thinking. "I mean…" he stalled rapidly before he heard her giggle lightly on the other end of the phone. He smiled, his heart doing summersaults in his chest.

"It's ok," she soothed his blushing persona. "I can't stop thinking about you either," she said in a more serious manner. Michael's breath caught in his throat and he became hot and sweaty. His stomach ached with need and he swallowed audibly down the phone. He needed to see her today or he would explode.

"Hey, do you want to maybe go somewhere today?" He stammered nervously. "With me I mean…" She laughed at him again and he smiled. Her laugh was intoxicating and he loved it.

"Sure," she agreed. "How about I meet you at the park in an hour?" Michael glanced at his watch. Was it really the afternoon already?

"That will be great," he grinned. After saying their good byes Michael stared lovingly at the receiver in his hand before biting his lip and placing it back on its cradle. He had an hour to make himself presentable and get to the park.

The sun was warm on his skin but he was already on fire. Just hearing Sara's voice made him feel warm inside and he felt as if he had known her for so long. She wasn't shy when she told him her feelings. A tiny voice at the back of his head reminded him she was the Governor's daughter but as he sat here, taking in her spectacular sight he was lost.

They talked for hours, pouring their heart and souls into what they said. He told her about his brother and she told him she wished she had brothers and sisters. He felt sorry for her, a Governor's daughter with no one to share her bustling lifestyle with. Her hair flapped in the breeze as she spoke, the sun's rays illuminating the strands a vibrant red colour.

Her attire was too much. She wore figure hugging jeans that had a tiny embroidered motif around the waistband hidden beneath a black leather belt that had blunt triangle studs on it. She wore a thin red strappy top but her milky shoulders were hidden from his view by an army green shirt. It was small, tight to her body and the capped sleeves seemed rolled up and buttoned, although Michael thought it was just the fashion.

As she leant back on the grass her tops rode up and Michael caught a glimpse of her smooth, creamy stomach. It was flecked with tiny blonde hairs that trapped insulating hair between them as the breeze brushed her skin. Michael tore his eyes from her briefly once the image had etched itself on his memory. She pulled her pink Converse All Stars through the medium length grass and hugged her knees, wiggling her toes in her shoes.

"What about you?" she asked him genuinely. Michael looked at her dumbfounded. He had been so lost in her image he hadn't been listening very well. Sara looked vexed and pushed his shoulder playfully. "You weren't listening," she teased to which he laughed heartily. Michael fell to the grass dramatically before springing back to his sitting position.

"I was," he exclaimed through a laugh. "What were we talking about?" he grinned a toothy smile and her mouth fell open in disbelief. He ducked from a flying hand as it went to swat the back of his head. Michael laughed harder, enjoying his game as she grabbed a handful of grass and tossed it at him with theatrical effort.

"You're unbelievable," she smiled at him, crossing her arms and acting hurt. He brushed the grass from his head and flicked a few pieces from his shirt onto the ground.

"I try," he told her with a nod. A silence followed where they just stared at each other. Michael loved the way she looked, the way she smelt, the way she did everything. Even when she tucked a stray strand of her auburn locks behind her delicate ear he loved it. Tearing their gazes apart, Sara glanced at the watch of her wrist and sighed.

"I have to go. Homework," she told him with distain, pulling a face like she had just tasted something foul. Michael pushed himself to his feet and reached out both his hands to help her up. She took his hands in hers and pulled against him as he pulled her to her feet. He held her hands a little longer then he needed but neither said anything.

Sara pulled one had from his warm touch and brushed a blade of grass from his bruised eyebrow. Her fingers were healing and Michael felt no pain and she gently picked the offending item from his brow. His eyes followed her hand up and he came alive with excitement as her skin connected with his. He thanked her with a smile and offered to walk her home.

"Well, I guess I'll see you around," she told him as they stepped up onto her big white porch. Michael stood a step lower so they were eye level and he looked at his feet nervously. Sara quickly leant forward and rested a flat palm against his chest as she planted a soft lingering kiss to his cheek. Michael's eyes closed as he tried to think of anything but what her touch on his skin. He gulped silently.

She flashed him a last smile before disappearing into her big white front door leaving him hot and flustered on the porch. He smiled to himself as his weak legs carried him down the steps of the porch. His footprints crunched on the gravel driveway as he walked behind it, turning to take one last look at the big house before he broke into a sprint and jogged home.