Spit It Out — BBpanzu

Mikey can stare down entire gangs without blinking — but standing in front of you with something real to lose makes his thoughts unravel. He’s rehearsed this moment too many times, played out a dozen versions in his head, and somehow they all fall apart the second you’re actually there.

Every time he opens his mouth, the words trip over each other. He starts, stops, exhales, rubs his hands together like he’s trying to shake off the feeling clawing up his spine. You make him hesitate — and that terrifies him more than anything else ever has.

He hates that you don’t know. Hates that he’s been carrying this alone, letting it sit in his chest until it feels too big to hold. He paces once, then twice, then finally stills, jaw tight like he’s bracing for impact. He looks at you, really looks this time, and lets out a sharp breath. “…There’s something I need to say, and if I don’t say it now, I never will.”