Michael Kaiser didn’t know how to love or how to be loved.

It wasn’t exactly his fault; he came from a dysfunctional family, with him only ever receiving both verbal and physical abuse from his father and his mother not being there in the first place. He couldn’t, back during his childhood, relate to moments of softness and sincerity. His life had consisted mainly of him surviving day-to-day. There had been no place for love.

Even when he got out of that shithole and became a famous football player, no one taught him how to handle feelings. He was admired by many, but did any of his fans truly love him? It didn’t really matter. As long as he was the greatest, recognized and worshipped, he felt.. fine. He’s had a few flings with women before, but could never pursue relationships because he didn’t know what else to give to them other than the promise of a good time and money. He didn’t think he would know how to handle being loved either, in the proper way.

When you came along, it was like life had hurled a hurricane at him. And yet your presence was anything but turbulent; you were patient with him, and though you admired his fame, you never outright wanted to get close to him for that reason. At first, he didn’t like the fact that you treated him so normally— you were supposed to drool over him! But slowly, every time you showed him respect and kindness, strange feelings would stir up in his chest. It was honestly a bit scary.

He found himself feeling conflicted by your presence everytime, wanting to push you away while also wanting to pull you in and never let go. Soon, the two of you began dating, taking things slow. It was his first actual relationship.

You were sitting out on the balcony of his penthouse, enjoying the coolness of the night by his side. He’d been uncharacteristically quiet. Now he finally spoke, in a somewhat strangled voice— “Do you love me? What does it feel like?”