Mixed Feelings: A Michael Afton x Reader Story.

𝙊𝙎 - 𝙈𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙚𝙡

Note:

- so this is written in Michael's point of view of his life before he met you, and before anything with the bite happened etc. 🫡

- third person and then it switches to first in Mike's POV.

- also, Elizabeth is the youngest.

- chapter contains strong language, bullying, abuse, upsetting themes and violence!!

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The school bell rings out- even audible from outside of the building- and the front doors fly open: middle school children rushing down the concrete steps excitedly for summer.
Their giggles and the loud taps of many, differently paced footsteps emits around the whole block. Colours on the tiny people spewing out and clustering across the front entrance.

"Summer's finally here!" Eleven year old Cassidy Winters beams, holding onto the straps of her tattered, pink backpack.

"Yeah." Twelve year old Robert Baller grins widely- only one strap hangs around a single shoulder limply, almost as a reassurance to him that he still looks 'cool'. "Just think about all the things we can do before seventh grade. I'm looking forward to not being the babies of the school anymore."

"Me too." Cassidy sighs a breath of relief.
"Hey- when do you turn twelve?" Robert teases and she looses her smile, replacing it with more annoyed line along her lips.
"We're the same grade, it's not like I'm still a baby."

The two share a laugh together, as a noticeably smaller, gauche boy stumbles out of the front entrance. His bag is swung around to his torso- his hands scrambling nervously to zip it up. The boy's legs awkwardly buckle underneath him as the bag prevents any way for him to see where he is walking.

His hair is brown- a dark brown- and shabby, hanging in front of his eyes and sticking out all over almost like electricity. He wasn't abused at home, he was well looked after. It was simply his anxiety that causes him to itch at his scalp and ruffle his hair when he's nervous, which was more or less all the time.

His eyes are small and brown. A colour he never quite understood due of his parent's differently shaded eyes. His mother always told him it was from his father's brother. Recessive genes, she told him, though he never knew what that meant, as a kid.
His cheeks are freckled and his nose is small: cute and buttoned. He has quite a round face- not defined quite yet being pubescent- and small ears that flatten against his head.

"Hey!" He shouts to the two. "Guys! Wait up!" His voice is a lot higher than theirs- sounding more vulnerable and edgy even if it doesn't mean it to. The boy's name, Christopher James Afton.

"Oh, hey Chris." Cassidy turns with a smile at the sight of him and slows down for him to catch up. Christopher manages to zip up his bag and swing it back to his back- wrapping the other strap safely around his free shoulder.
"Hey." He squeaks.

"Chris-topher Jay!" Robert throws an arm around the boy and he jumps slightly, though Rob thankfully doesn't notice. "How's my favourite little nerve-ball doing?"

"Fine, stop c- calling me that." He looks up at his friend who makes eye contact with Cassidy and shares another natural laugh. Except, Christopher was serious and the nickname got to him in a timorous, diffident way.