He didn't say anything. He just watched me with that sweet, sad, familiar look that said more about how badly I was hurting him than a dozen screaming matches between us would have.
He was breaking my heart.
- I'm so sorry, Mickey..
He sat down on the bench and held his arms to me. -Bee, come here.
I shook my head. -Mik, I can't..
-I'm not asking anything from you,- he interrupted firmly. -I'm giving you something. Come here.
When I just looked at him in confusion he sighed, reached up, took my hands, and gently  drew my stiff but unresisting body to his lap and into his arms. He held me, resting his cheek on top of my head, like My face was pressed against the crook of his neck and I inhaled his scent. It was the fragrance of my childhood.
And I realized suddenly that while I'd been breathing in familiarity and security, I'd also been relaxing. With a sigh, I curled into him.
-Better? - Mickey murmured.
-Better - I said. -But Mik, I really don't know..
-Don't - His arms tightened around me and then gentled again. -Right now just remember us. Remember what's been like between us for years. I'm here for you, Bee,  I'm fixing you. I'm here, and we belong to each other.
-Why? - I asked, still cradled in his arms. -Why are you still here, still willing to be with me even when I just said..
-Because I love you - he said simply. - I've loved you for as long as I can remember, and I'm going to love you for the rest of my life.
Tears stung my eyes and I blinked hard, trying not to cry.
-Hey - he said looking right through me - There isn't anything to do about me. I don't care what you answered. I'm with you. That's it.
I stared at him. Mickey's eyes were bright with tears. He looked so much older than nineteen that it almost scared me. -I don't want to make you sad. - I said. - i don't want to mess up your life.
-Then stop trying to send me away from you.
Okay, I realize it was wrong of me, but instead of answering him and arguing that us being together just couldn't work, I curled up in his arms and let him hold me. Yeah, it was selfish of me, but I lost myself in Mickey and the touch of my past. The way he held me was perfect. He didn't try to make out with me. He didn't try to feel me up or grind against me. He just murmured how much he loved me. He told me everything really would be okay. I could feel his heartbeat against me, the familiarity, our joined past, the strenght of his understanding.