5SoS Preferences

Crying Michael

At 3am you hear a faint knock on your apartment door. You had been sitting in front of the tv with a cup of coffee in your hands, trying to finish an essay that should have been done days ago. You check your phone for any missed calls or texts before you raise from your cozy spot under the blanket, putting the coffee down on the table. The rain is hitting your window and the wind is howling, it is a real storm going on outside and you can't imagine who would knock at your door at this time of the night. 

You peek through the whole in your door and see a familiar blond hair outside, his back turned to you. You open the door with a frown on your face, "Michael?"

He turns around and his eyes are rimmed with tears, and you suddenly understand why he's there. You give him a weak smile, opening up the door for your best friend who is soaked after walking there in the rain. "Come here." You say, opening your arms for him as soon as you've closed the door behind him. 

He silently walks into your arms and rests his head on your shoulder, letting your wrap your warm arms around him. "Is it one of those days again?" You ask quietly, trying to hold hm together the best you can.

You feel him nod against your skin. This isn't the first time Michael has come to you, looking for comfort or just a friend to talk to. He usually calls or sends a text first, so you suppose this time is worse than the past ones. 

"Let's go to the bedroom, yeah?" You suggest when you feel a shudder run through his body, his wet clothes are turning cold. 

You take his hand and lead him to your bedroom, gesturing for him to sit down on your bed as you dig through your closet for some clothes he's left at your place. You pull out a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, turning around to give it to him. Michael is sitting with his head hung low, staring down at his hands as small water droplets make their way down his face. He doesn't even react when you put the pile in his lap. 

"Hey," You say, putting a finger underneath his chin to make him meet your eyes. "Everything's going to be alright. It's okay not to be okay sometimes."

He gives you an attempt of a smile in return, but it looks too forced to be anywhere near real. 

"I'll go make some hot chocolate while you change out of your wet clothes."

You give him one last glace before you leave your bedroom, not closing the door entirely. You and Michael have always been there for each other, through good and bad but it still hurts you everytime he shows up on your doorstep with that look on his face, as if nothing mattered anymore and he had lost all hope, and his usual twinkle in the eye were gone. 

You quickly make two cups of hot chocolate, putting some extra sugar into Michael's. When you enter you bedroom again, Michael is still sitting on your bed, like he hasn't moved a muscle since you left. He looks absolutely drained of energy and his face is completely blank, you know that this is one of his really bad nights where he can't do anything but silently plead for your help and comfort.

You put the cups down on your nightstand and walk up to him. "Arms up." 

It taked a few seconds, then slowly but surely he starts to raise his arms, allowing you to pull his wet tank over his head. You drop it on the floor and quickly dries him with a towel that you found in one of your drawers. You help him on with his t-shirt and then his pants. Michael hasn't said a word yet, only letting you take care of him, like you always do for each other. 

You sip on your chocolate for a while, while you wait for him to say something or start a conversation. He doesn't though, and when he decides that he's had enough, he puts the cup down and crawls into your bed. 

You watch him for a moment, contemplating if you should go sleep on the couch or if he's okay with you sleeping in the bed with him. 

"Do you want me to, you know, sleep on the couch or?" You ask carefully. 

He shakes his head, bottom lip poking out like a small child or doesn't get what he wants, "Stay."

You get under the covers, not bothering turning the tv off in the living room, and wait for him to get comfortable. He ends up with his back to your front, keeping a secure grip of your arms around his waist. 

You smile into his neck, placing a gentle kiss between his shoulder blades. "Get some sleep, babe." You whisper. 

"Thank you." He mumbles back, pressing further into you. "For everything."