This is a little bit inspired by acruality, like I like it to be, while exploring what Michael and Sara haven't yet revealed to each other. I was made notice that a lot of my stories are a bit Sara centric, in terms of character developpement, this one is too.
I am writing something more family centric about their children too, and have a set of works written about Michael-Sara right after Michael's come back, following season 5.
Meanwhile, enjoy this one shot :)
...
"Good morning." Mike let out, sitting on the kitchen stool opposite Sara who served handed him his bowl that he began filling with milk.
"Morning." she smiled, but Mike quietly stared at the bubbles the milk formed atop the centre of the bowl. Her smile never really reached her eyes now, he knew she merely smiled for pretense infront of him, he could see it.
"Maths test today ?" she asked, sipping dark coffee.
"Yes, that's what we were working on yesterday with Brian." Mike elaborated.
"Good. You got your calculator packed ? Don't forget it." Sara reminded.
"Yeah I got it." He simply said. They both ate in silence, he knew mom didn't talk much now. She kept it to necessity, always. It sometimes hurt him, but he could understand.
He hurried to finish breakfast, feeling the tension in the air. Family moments were mostly ackward now, Mike always felt the tension and heavy burden of emotion filling the air. He'd get going earlier, he liked taking his time to wander early in the morning on the way to school anyway. It helped him think and being alone felt unfortunately much more easier nowdays than with either, or both of his parents.
He wiped his mouth with a tissue, and got up to put his bowl in the sink, grabbed his bag and headed for the hall, putting on his shoes as Sara absently watched him, sipping her half cold coffee.
"Alright. Bye mom." He let out opening the front door. Not wishing her a good day, like he used to.
"Bye baby, let me know when you're home tonight." Sara anwsered, and then sighed as the door shut behind her son.
She got up, pouring the rest of her coffee down in the sink, and grabbed a sponge to clean off the counter where Mike, mostly, just ate.
Michael made it down the stairs, closing the buttons of his shirt on his wrist and their eyes absently locked.
"Afternoon shift today ?" He asked, bending over the sofa and putting his files together.
"Yeah, won't be in before 2 pm." Sara informed, voice exhausted like she just ran a long, long distance and was too exhausted to even form a couple of sentences. She mostly sounded like that now. Not that he was any better.
Michael barely talked at all. So he couldn't complain about that. He had closed off. And shielded his mind from her, because one elongated look at her and Michael's brain went to too many places his heart couldn't bear.
She turned her back to him as she began washing the breakfast dishes, absently staring through the window.
Michael made his way to the kitchen and kissed the side of her head briefly. "Well, I'll get going, see you tonight.." he said almost formally, and saw her nodd from the periphery of his eyes.
He opened a cabinet, grabbing a granola bar to go when he heard a muffled sound, she gulped down a sob and as he looked at her, looked the other way to hide her painfully contorting face.
He rested the bar on the counter and put a hand on her shoulderblade, where her little crane tattoo was located under her cotton shirt, he cherished it, still. And he hoped he could stop his mind from derailing in such ways and focus on one thing at a time. "Sara ?"
When she supressed the urge to just bawl, she looked at him, heartbreak in her eyes. "4 months today." she simply said, looking down.
Michael took a deep breath. A familiar pain that never really went away, and sat like a heavy weight on his heart intensifying again.
She seemingly couldn't hold it back and began weeping softly, her shoulders shaking with her cries.
"Come here." He could only say, pulling her damp forearm covered in dishwashing soap bubble toward him and wrapping her tall, but narrow frame against him. She felt smaller somehow to him now, as if grief and the weight of the pain she carried had physically shrunk her, and was eating away at her.
He closed his eyes, focussing on her familiar scent and trying to block out her sobs. She clung to him, something she rarely allowed herself to do these days, intensifying the desperateness radiating from her.
"Did you see the formula shortages since a week ? I don't even know what he's feeding her, or if he's feeding her at all. She might be hungry right now." He heard her lament and that's what broke him.
Truth was, they didn't even know if their infant was alive or dead. But her motherly heart worrying like that tore him as he imagined their child crying, hungry and unfed. Her cries haunted him. And that's why he never allowed his brain to go in places Sara's did. He would stop functionning if he did that. And he knew his son and wife needed him.
His mind reeled, as he cried too now, against her.
Michael couldn't ever forget that day. The day their baby was snatched from them. Jacob. He mastered it. Not even blackmailing or having a precise demand but just wanting revenge.
He got someone to take Sara. A couple of weeks before her due date, as she walked under a bridge on her way back from the local market. He remembered it so well, blaming his LLI, they didn't have enough onions and spices for steak, Mike had asked to make. She was up to only having a salad, the heat ans the extra weight of pregnancy repulsing her from greasy food and meat. He had insisted he'd go, but remembered she had said she could pick fresh lettuce and stuff for her salad too. She walked out, in khaki pants and a summer light top, her milky arms exposed, his eyes had lingered on the beauty marks gracing them and her chest, then on the strands of red hair escaping her tied hair. He wished he had listened to his instincts and stopped her.
Surveillance camera footage was the only thing Michael had for days. His mind had gone crazy. Mike crying. His boy wept everyday with certitude that his mother was dead. Jacob had wanted to kill her already, told him she was dead already, is all he kept repeating.
And then, on that faithful day, Michael got a call. As if fate itself had decided to play against them, the baby was coming early. Sara seemed calm. Calmer than he expected as he rambled inanities built by days and days of tension, worry and heart wrenching fear.
She calmed him down. A mighty power the woman had upon him till that day. Told him she was alright. Baby was alright. And Michael had almost cried over those familiar words. She promised everything would be fine. That she knew what to do. That she was a doctor. Reflecting now, he didn't even grasp who she was trying to calm, him, or herself.
Because the call had lasted eighteen hours. Eighteen hours that surely, were the worst of his live. And he had lived tortures and solitary isolation.
Sara labored, but not without respite. The sick man Jacob was had ordered for her to be tortured too. And his heart had exploded, witnessing that horror helplessly through a phone. If he'd had allowed it. His mind would have sunk in a very very dark hole, but he kept it going, kept it witnessing and bearing what was happening. For her.Desperately telling her that he was here, even if he wasn't and that all he wanted to beat himself violently for what was happening. But soothing her whenever she cried his name and felt alone and desperate.
At last, he didn't knew exactly when, but during an advanced stage of pushing, Sara had let out a mind numbing scream, and she still wouldn't reveal what had been done to her then, but she passed out from pain. It was only then, that Michael had maybe been able to focus on something else and track the call to get the location, his brain fogged with Sara's struggling cries, before. He could hear his - now born - daughter's newborn cries through the phone and swore he was coming to the child. Were they alone now ? She and Sara ? He couldn't make out. But Sara had passed out, and their baby was crying, unattented is what he knew.
When he'd made it however, his wife was alone. Blood covering her thighs. her hair disshelved in a pile beneath her on the hard dirty floor.
He had taken their baby. A note letting them only know that they'll never see their child again, and that this was all he wanted, revenge. For them to never be at peace again.
Michael had cried in despair, clinging to the lifeless hand of his unconscious wife. It maybe had taken him one hour, to get a grip of himself and gather her abused body from the ground, take her home.
He still didn't knew what haunted him the most, even if all were graved with hor iron on his heart. The cries of pain from childbirth his wife let out during her torturous ordeal, the cries of his newborn as she begged helplessly to be held by a mother who couldn't even hear her distress, or the wailing sobs Sara broke into, when she woke and learned her child had been wrenched away from them. "I didn't even get to hold her, I didn't even get to see her." She had repeatedly wailed, at him or an unfair fate, he didn't knew. She refused to go to the Hospital, craddling her empty womb and sobbing for hours.
They had looked. Day and night. Tracing every possible path. Michael's mind not settling untill he quadrilled every map, every blue, every hint, every sign, every evidence.
But they were going after thin air. Nothing. Two months and a half of frantic searching. And Lincoln had snapped at him, one day. To just stop. To look at the destroyed woman his wife was and stop clinging her to false hopes. Because she hadn't even been that sinking after losing him, because she thought he was gone. But now, the cluelessness kept her mind frantically crazy.
She mass bought clothes for a baby she didn't even know the size of, stocked on diapers and formula weekly. Sometimes talked to an empty crib. She would never leave the house without a blanket stuffed empty stroller or baby carrier, said she couldn't leave her baby out of her sight. And Lincoln feared his sister in law was losing sanity, and only Michael could ground her, if he stopped chasing ghosts and straw clues. The child was gone. They both needed to accept that.
And pay attention to his nephew. Mike was small. He didn't get it. He needed stability. He needed a routine. He couldn't keep on staying with him while his parents sank in insanity.
They needed normal. He had electroshocked them one day, they needed to get back on track. Make breakfasts, go back to work and pay the bills piling up on the tv console of their house. Get it together.
That's what they did. Both of them. Only for Mike, they had settled upon. And since then, the complete opposite happened. They never mentionned their nameless child. Never talked about her. Kept a fake routine if normalcy maybe they themselves found confort in.
This was one of the few rare moments they allowed themselves to mourn her. "She must need me Michael, she must be hungry." Sara sobbed against him and he held her head, gulping back a sob of his own. She collected milk the first few days, filling bottles that were still to date, aligned in their fridge, he'd never been able to bring himself to get rid of the probably now, sour and spoiled milk. It would feel like he was pouring away her motherhood down the drain, he knew it was a toxic and irrational way of thinking but he couldn't help.
"Sweetheart shh.." He could only confort.
"She must be crying so much, she must need for us to hold her."
He sighed against her hair, kissing the side of her head. "She'll blame me...she'll blame me so much when we find her." Sara shook her head in despair against him.
He closed his eyes shut, not knowing how to calm her pain, his own, or tell her they might not ever see their child. She might be dead already. Sara needed to stop having this certitude that they were getting her back.
"They'll find her formula." he could only lie, bless her tearing heart.
"How ? There's nothing even in our local supermarket. What if they let her die of hunger Michael ?" she breathed in anxiety.
Michael let the dam inside him broke and wept too, anew. "Stop, please stop Sara...I can't think this, I can't imagine this, I just can't... I did everything I could and if our daughter's somewhere and hungry I'd never forgive myself." He sobbed with hot tears now.
"I'll never forgive me too Michael, I can't bear the thought of it. Does she wail and wait hungry or do they feed her at time at all ? Not knowing is killing me." Sara sobbed breaking out of the hug and sinking on a squat against the lower kitchen cupboards as she held her quivering with sobs body.
...
Michael observed his wife's sleeping form. She had came home late today and seemed on nerves. The children were already in bed, she simply ate and crashed in bed too.
He had done some reading and lazed around sipping tea before slipping in bed. He couldn't sleep now. It happened once in a while, but it was somehow a peaceful insomnia. Nothing bothering him, his biological clock just used to very few hours of sleep. Nothing like the early restlessness of anxiety and nightmares and PTSD.
Sara seemed tense in her sleep too, shifting ever so slightly, her hand twitching and her face unrelaxed. He wished he could sometime not notice these tiny details, she might be sleeping peacefully and his mind worked loops of worry about her rest.
His eyes shifted to the roof, studying the pattern of intricate molding. Their townhouse was quite old, restored but old and Michael loved the vintage feel of it. Studying how each detail could have once been the livelihood of a family just like theirs, more than a hundred years ago.
His thoughts were interrupted when Sara woke with a startled gasp.
He looked at her, her eyes shrinking as she realised where she was and seemed to let of a slight sight of relief.
"You okay ?" Michael asked, hand reaching to craddle the wrist she took to her forehead.
She nodded. "Yeah, why arent you asleep ?" she asked whispering in the dark, as the streets lights formed shadows in their room through the huge bay window.
"Just couldn't sleep. You ? Nightmare ?" He nudged, she didn't have many nightmares, not now, not in a long time. Sara admitted her soul and mind seemed more at ease than ever.
"Hmm." She admitted shifting and laying a little closer to him.
"In need of some distraction..?" He said playfully, reaching for the lace of her pajama pants and she laughed softly against his biceps, batting his hands away.
They laid in silence for a while, peaceful quietness bathing their room. "Remember when Faith was just born ? she was so so small." Sara let out thoughfully.
Michael reached for her hand, toying with her wedding ring and fingers.
"I do. But look at her now, two and a half, more excited for school than any normal child has ever been." Michael chuckled fondly. Faith was going to school in a little less than a month, now. And god was she excited.
"Yeah, I swear if she freaking unpacks and re-packs her school bag Michael - " Sara let out in fake anger and he laughed softly.
Faith used to make a mess of undoing her backpack, crayons all around, and then re-arranging them in some way in her pencil case. Once she even was cleaning the inside of her bag. "Is clean now." she told him proudly when he caught her.
Michael kissed the top of Sara's head now. "You know if I wasn't her dad, and didn't love her as much, I'd rescent that girl for how hard she's always been on her mother, for how much worry she's caused you." He said truthfully, still playing with her fingers.
Sara chuckled. "Yeah right, you love her more than you love any of us Michael." she retorted and he shook his head in amusement.
"True, but I feel like she's troubled my little wife's peaceful existence." He kissed her head again, in mock exaggerated affection, twice.
Sara nodded with a small smile, playing along. "On the opposite of Mike, Mike feels like he brings such peace to you.." Michael noted.
"He is a blessing.." Sara confirmed, a genuine fond smile gracing her lips. "You don't know how much, he saved my life. He was such a calm baby. And toddler too. Just adorable." Sara recalled almost with nostalgia in her eyes. And Michael was glad, that she could recall something else about that time in her life than just grief and sorrow.
"And Faith ?" Michael ask teasing her, and felt her laugh against his chest more than heard it. "Trouble." Sara anwsered.
He smiled and went silent for a couple of seconds. "You still think of how small and sick she was when she was born ? Have nightmares about it..? You have to stop blaming yourself Sara, it wasn't your fault."
"No..I mean a little, but when I think about her as a newborn mostly now, I think good things. Like how just adorable she was, how lucky and special it felt having a baby with you, us doing it all together, and how she would need two blankets to fall asleep, remember that ?" She smiled.
Michael laughed. "Yeah I do, and how she always loved spending almost an hour in the bath..but then what was your nightmare about ?" He asked looking as her now.
"It wasn't really about that but then I think my brain really twisted it around with this old unconscious worry of that time I have." She let out worrying her lip thoughfully.
"What do you mean ?" Michael asked.
"Remember how helpless I felt because I couldn't breastfeed her ?" Sara let out quietly.
"Yeah, but it wasn't your fault, nothing was because of you.. you know that." Michael's hand reached for her chest now, stroking her breast through her bra, and she wondered if she didn't want to go on the distraction path ultimately, instead of talking and openeing about what hurts.
She took his hand and brought it to her lips, and then rested it a little upwards, against her heart.
"I know Michael, it's not about that...In my nightmare, he had taken Faith." She let out.
Michael frowned trying to place where this was going.
"Oh..it's about him ?" He asked slowly, heart heavy.
"No its not. But he'd taken her and I was worrying about what could they must be feeding her because of the formula shortage. Its about the formula shortage Michael." Sara explained sighing.
"What do you mean ?" He asked, confused.
"I.. I just had that nightmare because my brain kept telling me what if it was me, what it was my baby, what if I was helpless like that." She sighed.
Michael sighed. "You can't blame yourself for anything you hear on the news, Sara. Who told you to watch that anyway." He shook his head, annoyed at mainstream newschannels.
"It's not about the news. Fuck the news." She said, sitting a bit straighter now, away from him.
"It's about me not helping. I am a doctor. And everyday, like today, I have patients who are suffering and miserable and I cant do anything." She sighed.
Michael listened now simply, recognising what this was about. It was about her work, her constant will to help, be the change.
"I had a couple of moms like that today, one's baby is clearly losing weight and she is hiding it, probably out of shame she cant afford formula. The other, god that baby was like Faith, Michael. Prematured, and so small at birth, and its a single mother, she works all the time. Baby's having stomach issues now, because he was so weak, only a few brands of formula
suits him, and changing all the time is disturbing his pattern and digestive system. He cries and refuse to feed. Next time she comes I am afraid he'd be so weak I'd have to sent them to ER, get him on artificial feeding. Right now I can only prescribe vitamins." She sighed.
"You knew when opening your cabinet that you'd be dealing with working class communities.. It's better than the ER, less stressful on you, I feel, most days." he let out.
"That's not the issue. Them not having a doctor at all isn't the solution. No one should have to live like this, and I didn't become a doctor to do this, to lie that it's going to get better, and give sympathic helpless smiles, this isnt living up to my oath." She fully sat now, knees pulled up to her chest and elbows circling them.
"I know Sara. But you're doing everything you can, your absolute best." He tried.
"Yeah if this is my absolute best than I am a shame of a person Michael.
..I am a mother too, what if it was my child ? What if I were in their situation ? This is a failure of me as doctor, and as a mother too. No mother should accept and witness other moms go through this much distress." The anger almost radiated off of her skin. Because what if it was Faith ? or even Mike when he was a baby, what would she have done ? so helpless...
This was part of why Michael fell in love with her. Her ability to question, see, help, have compassion, her fiery will to not accept things as they are.
"It makes me feel so so helpless and guilty, and like a shit person, god." she rested her head on her elbow.
Michael sat up too now, a hand on her back. "You're not a shit person. You know that."
"You don't know Michael.." She let out, he sighed.
"What dont I know ?" He asked, patient but insisting now.
"What it reminds me of, everytime." She realised he didn't knew. None of it. Her own PTSD and anxiety over events of her life, he didn't knew. How could he know her so well and not know... She didn't knew.
It was a strange feeling, but for the time he was away, Michael had became like a reflection of her own soul, the Michael of her thoughts knew everything about her. Not the real life Michael.
She sighed. "Its about Panama..when I was held there." She looked at him, feeling like they were right back to more than ten years ago, to a conversation pending since more than 10 years ago.
"I am here, if you want to talk" She remembered his words like he said them yesterday, could almost hear the surf of the sea and feel the californian sun on her alabaster skin. Lucky was Faith, for inheriting her father's olive skin tone, she would get a gorgeous tan in California, Sara thought.
"I am listening, sweetheart." He reached for her wrist, grounding her back to reality, even if a torrent of emotions and thoughts seemed to go on in his own mind.
Michael had hurt to see her have clear trauma, after she was held in Panama, anxiety and nightmares, something they never got to discuss properly, or heal her from, in the mess that was their lives.
Sara clasped her own hand around the wrist of Michael's hand that her hers.
"There was a guard back in Panama, who watched me." She began and Michael swallowed, what horror or torture was he about to hear again ? How had they abused the love of his live, the only woman he loved so much already, back then ? Michael feared his heart had suffered enough witnessing the scars of her back. Still today marring her skin, in irregular but smoother lines.
"Her name was Michelle." Sara continued, looking at their hands to focus.
"What did she do to you ?" Michael asked protectively and Sara shook her head.
"She saved my life Michael. She, she gave me the key out of there, that's how I escaped. But Gretchen killed her for it. And I just witnessed, helpless, and guilt for that ate me so much afterwards..." Sara sighed.
Michael looked down. Was he supposed to be thankful, glad ? He lived with such remorses himself all his life.
"And none of that was your fault, it doesn't make you a bad person, Sara." He reaffirmed.
"You love me, you're biased." She said in the cynical tone he recognised from a time, and it's not San Pedro anymore he felt taken back to, but Fox River's infirmary. Had this conversation taken them that far ?
"I do love you, but I am clear minded enough to know you're a good person." He assured.
"You don't know what kind of a person I am Michael, you don't know me." She shook her head. "I have lived 30 years before you, and 7 more, in total you haven't even been with me more than what ? Five years ?" She let out and then looked at his face, hurt stricken, he removed his hand from her wrist.
"I am sorry, I didn't mean it like that." She amended.
"I left you." He said the two last words like he was swallowing glass shreds.
"I didn't mean that Michael. I just meant you don't know the things I 've done, even before you met me..." She sighed.
"Would you tell me, sweetheart ?" He used his name of affection for her in such a tone, she wanted to hold him and just lay in his arms.
"You're going to think I am an awful person, I have done so much things that are an absolute embarassement when I... during the time I used." She sighed.
Michael held her against him, making her lay down on his chest.
"I am not going to think anything, and I won't judge you. You know that.. God it feels like we're twenty something again and dating." Michael chuckled and Sara seemed to relax, as he hear her laugh softly against his chest, she then laid down completely in his lap, resting her head on his leg while she watched the patterns lights formed on their bedroom wall opposing their bed too.
Michael was 42 now, and Sara 40. It's not that much that they felt old, but they felt like they knew each other forever, and had been together for so long. They had burned all these steps, the datings and talking about pasts.
"A few months before you were incarcerated in Fox River," Sara began, playing with one of his hand as the other stroke her silky hair.
"I was working in the Hsopital, downtown, that's where I did my internship years. And I used to... I used to steal the hospital's morphine, needles.." She paused, and when she felt his steady stroking continue, she pursued. "Used it sometimes right there, shared it with friends and boyfriends, and even brought some home." Sara sighed ashamed, how could she pretend willing to be a good doctor when she'd done all that ? Saying it aloud and retracing her path of that time was even worst than having a vague memory of it.
"Anyway, one day, I was walking back from the Hospital. It was winter, lot of snow. I was high.." She paused again and took a deep breath. "A teenager got ran down by some lunatic driver... I just stared, a woman asked if I was a doctor, and I was one, but I couldn't help him because I was high. I walked back there a week later, there was those white bicyles they use for dead cyclists... He died because of me, because I was too high to help him." She looked up at his face, and when she saw no disgust or disappointement, simply compassion, she continued.
"After that, I decided to go to rehab, get my life together. Few months later I was hired at Fox River, something my father hated. But I never felt more confident and proud of myself than in those few months." She looked at him.
"What are you thinking ?" she asked, almost anxiously.
"Just how far you've come. You're an amazing person Sara, and a dedicated doctor. Your will to help is what made you change, give up on addiction, it's not an easy path. I am just... you've had a great journey as a person, and I am proud of you." Michael poured honestly and she kissed his cotton clad skin.
"Yeah well, right now Michael, babies that I can clearly see in vital distress, and that I dont do anything to help, feels exactly the same. It takes me right there. To being immoral and useless. God infant mortality is rising again in this country, and us, the doctors ? We are complicit, we see it everyday, we dont do nothing." she sighed against his thigh, tracing patterns on his cotton clad knee.
"It's not the same.." he let out.
"Yeah its not the same, we all are this time, we are all betraying our vocation and all are being immoral, dishonest lying complicits." Sara sighed.
She felt Michael sigh.
"You care. I know. To the point it's giving you nightmares and keeping you awake at night. You've always cared, this is why I fell in love with you, see, you're a good person." Michael whispered.
Sara breathed, not knowing how to contradict that, and touched too, by the revelation.
"You're a good man too, yeah ? You know that, so dedicated, selfless and brave. I love you back, so much." She kissed his shoulder.
Michael chuckled. "What ?" Sara looked at him.
"It's like we're always awake, we're woken together maybe more than we've even slept, over the years." He ventured.
Sara smiled. "Yeah, it feels like a lifetime waking with you." she thought.
"In different phases, remember first, when we used to wake, in your boat ?" Michael asked.
"Hhm, you couldn't sleep. And what happened in Panama kept me up." She let out.
"Which I cant believe you opened about just now, 12 years Sara, you should have told me." He pressed.
"Almost feels like we were different persons then.." She said thoughtfully.
"And then when I came back, we used to wake together, and I felt so guilty, like I was ruining your peace and sleep." Michael added.
"You weren't Michael. I had demons of my own.." She pursued her lips, one demon in particular, what Jacob had done to her. "And I liked it, being with you, I had spent so much time missing you and waking alone Michael, that staying awake with you was good.." she smiled at him.
"And then Faith happened.." Michael said and Sara laughed at how he worded it.
"We used to stay awake so much at her time, god, exhausted. Mike didn't keep me up that much." She reflected.
"Stop comparing her to Mike again." Michael tapped her arm playfully in defense of Faith and she chuckled.
"Sorry. But she was so small, her stomach could only digest what ? 35cl at a time ? And two hours later we had to feed her again... I am glad for how healthy she is now." Sara smiled.
"Our hard work paid off." He concluded. After a while. "You ever think about the baby we lost ?" he asked.
Sara's expression darkened. "I do. Maybe we'd be taking care of them as we speak..." She said thoughtfully, her brows creasing. "But I made my peace with that..." she admitted, eyes shining.
Michael grabbed her hand, stroking her fingers. "Not your fault, you know ?" He repeated, alievating her guilt again and again if needed.
"I know.." she nodded, giving him a small sad smile.
"And why are we awake now ?" He asked and Sara laughed.
"I don't know. I like being awake with you. And you weren't sleeping to begin with." She chuckled.
"Then come here," Michael pulled her closer and kissed her, blood rushing south as he felt her entire body pressed against his and felt her kissing him back just as intensely.
In a rushed franzy, she removed her top, and then began tangling her hands in the cotton of his to get rid of it, Michael swallowed a groan as she rolled her hips against his.
"We've done some interesting things waking together." She let out breathless and felt her gasp-laugh as he shifted and pinned her under him, finally removing her pajamas.
...
Please let me know what you think ! :)
