Killer || m.g.c

0.2

Bonnie Jackson.

"Put some pants on!" Nate screeched at me as I walked downstairs, still dazed after my sleep. I stretched my arms high above my head and yawned, pointing at him with one hand as the other fell to my side afterwards.

"Shut up." I said simply, my brain too unfocused to think of a proper comeback. He chuckled at my lame attempt of an insult as I walked over and sat on a stool next to the bench in the kitchen. He pointed to the coffee machine and I nodded, desperate for a caffeine hit. "What's the time?" I asked, hugging my knees to my chest under the makeshift pajama shirt.

"Like quarter to twelve or something." Nate mumbled, pouring boiling water in to a mug. I scoffed with a smile.

"Didn't think to wake me?" He glanced at me with an over exaggerated frown, eye brows raised, shaking his head before breaking out in to a smile, passing me the coffee. I inhaled the strong aroma that wafted above it, about to take a sip when a knock at the door sounded through the house. I groaned, placing my drink on the bench and removing my legs from the shirt. My feet softly padded across the dark wooden floor and I shivered at how cold it was.

Swinging the door open, I was shocked, to say the least. Michael stood there, shivering in the cold with his hands behind his back. His choice of clothing - black jeans with a t-shirt - didn't surprise me at all. It's the type of thing I imagined he would wear. I watched as his eyes looked me up and down, a sheepish smile on his lips. Realisation hit me harder than any truck ever could and I slammed the door in his face.

"What the hell?!" Nathan yelled from the kitchen, his laughter echoing through the house. I frantically searched around the living room, trying to find a pair of pants or shorts in the piles of laundry, both dirty and clean, that were constantly thrown around.

"I'm not wearing pants!" I yelled, running upstairs in to my room. "Michael's here and I'm not wearing any freakin' pants!" I grabbed some jeans and hopped around the hall way as I pulled them up, doing up the button and zipper as I jogged down the steps. I flipped my hair around and brushed it with my fingers before opening the door.

"Hey," I said, leaning against the door frame, trying to play off being 'cool'. "Sorry, I was just..." I trailed off, trying to think of a reasonable excuse for slamming a door in his face.

"Looking for pants?" He finished for me, a big smile on his lips. "I heard." I moved to the side for him to walk in, my cheeks turning bright red. I closed the door before walking over to Michael, standing before him. I was about to ask him a question when Nathan came jogging through the doors.

"Babe," He said, smiling at me as his arm snaked around my waist. I rolled my eyes at what Nathan was doing; he did with every date I brought home. "You didn't tell me we were having people over!" He finished his sentence with a kiss on my cheek. I groaned and pushed him off, watching Michael become confused.

"He's just messing with you." I sighed to Michael, pushing Nathan's shoulder as he erupted in to a fit of giggles. Michael seemed almost scared of Nathan. "You don't have to impress him or anything, he doesn't matter." I told Michael who gave me a small smile, his shoulders dropping as he relaxed a bit.

"That's not a nice thing to say, Bon." He fake scolded me as he walked back in to the kitchen. I gave Michael a small smile as he scratched the back of his neck, his biceps flexing which, unsurprisingly, didn't go unnoticed.

"Any reason for the visit?" I asked, walking in to the kitchen as Nate walked out, Michael following close behind.

"I gave you my jacket, yeah?" He asked. I felt disappointed at the question. Taking the jacket back doesn't happen in the books. Of course, trying to shape a relationship in to something you'd read in a pocket sized book with a stereotypical tan, long-haired and shirtless man, probably from Brazil, on the cover wasn't healthy. But a girl could dream, I suppose.