𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳𝘴 //

018

now playing..

"Rockin' Robin"
-BOBBY DAY

-

      Your knuckles brushed against the wooden door, only to get no response to the knocking.

      You weren't the closest with Michael, but you sure wanted to help him get out of his room and the depression hole you very well knew he was stuck in. Lora had asked you to at least try to help him, since her attempts were to no avail.
 
    Michael covered his eyes as you flicked on his light, slowly sitting up and looking to who was standing in his doorway. He was almost confused when he realized it wasn't one of his parents.

   "Who are- wait you're that chick my dad words with, right?" He asked. "I've seen you around." He rubbed his eyes as he spoke.

   "Yeah." You rubbed the back of your neck as your eyes roamed his room.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, sitting up completely. Michael looked half dead. His hair was long and unkept, azure eyes seemed to be drained of any life whatsoever.

     "I want to go on a walk and talk." You said. "Also nice room."

   Michael suddenly became embarrassed, agreeing his eyes from yours. He had your usual records, posters, pictures of rockstars, and a sprinkle of women in bikinis on the wall.

   "Hey man, don't worry. Women are hot. Now get up, let's go."

•-•

       Michael walked out of the room in a grey shirt, ripped jeans cut at the bottom, red high tops converse, all topped off with a jean jacket, a few pins scattered across the front.

   "I like your style." You complimented after taking in the outfit for the day. He smiled. You noticed one of his top teeth was slightly chipped.

   You hated to compare him to his father who most likely didn't want much to do with him now, but he definitely looked a hell of a lot like his dad.

•-•

You walked in silence for a few minutes before you spoke up, slightly glancing at him.

"I know you didn't mean for it to go that far."

He looked surprised. "What?"

"I said I know you didn't mean it."

"I.. yeah."