Absolutely not. ~{ Michael Afton x Male Reader}~

~6~

No content warnings, just the aftermath. and severe angst. and negative self talk. and a lil bit of S/h. Actually a lot of content warnings. skip if make uncomfy.

{Y/n Pov}

-A couple hours later-

I slowly stood up. I should be in gym right now. But Kennith is there. I walked into the bathroom and leaned against the sink, dropping my bag to the floor.

After a couple of minutes of silence, I turned on the sink. I pumped the soap dispenser and started scrubbing my wrists. I can still feel his hands around them. The disgusting warmth of them. The calluses on his palms. His fingerprints. Every. Little. Nook. And. Cranny. It's disgusting. I want it off. I can't get it off. There's a pulsing in my skull as I start crying again. Why wont it come off? It suddenly feels stuffy in here, like I can't breathe. It won't go away. GO AWAY. The door opened. GET. OFF. There are footsteps creeping closer. GET. OFF. I need to get this off. It's still there. WHY WON'T IT GO AWAY? I WANT IT. GONE. I looked down at my wrists. They're puffy and red. Tears drip onto them. Stinging them. It won't go away.

I slowly came to the realization that I had been scratching at them. Something taps my shoulder. Gentle.. Concerned. "...(Y/n)..?" I slowly looked up. It's Michael. ".... What do you want?" My voice quivered. It came out all squeaky. It was apparent that I had been crying. "Are you.. Okay? You weren't...in class today." I wiped my hands on my pants. "I'm fine." I am totally not fine. I think it's obvious enough but I might as well give lying a go. "...(Y/n), Were you crying..?" He stepped back a little. "No." I wiped my face. "....... Okay then.. um..." I hold my breath, desperately hoping he won't push for more answers ."Are you coming over today?" I nodded. "Cool. We might be able to finish tonight." He offered a kind smile. There was an awkward silence between us. I didn't necessarily have words for him.

".... I think I'm gonna.. Go home. Can you pick me up after school?" I muttered. He smiled brightly, showing his slightly crooked teeth. "Of course! I'll.. um.. See you after school, yeah?" I gave a quick and panicked smile. "Yeah.. Bye." I slang my bag over my shoulder, wincing at the bruise. I went out the back and started walking to my car. No teachers in sight. I unlocked in and hobbled inside. Thank god it's not absolutely destroyed. I started the ignition and started to drive home.

{10} When I got home; I just sobbed. I did nothing for a solid hour but sob and scrub the everloving shit out of my wrists. I scrubbed until my skin went raw, and until the feeling of Kennith's big stupid hands disappeared. They even bled a bit. But Michael is coming to pick me up. I have to pull myself together. I have to be fine. But I can't stop thinking about how I could have done something. I could have cut him or something. I HAD A KNIFE. I hid my face in the palms of my hands. I could have bit him. I could have done ANYTHING. I'm so fucking useless. I scream into my palms. But I have to be fine. This is all I can do. All i can do is sit here, and sob like a little fucking baby. Pull. Yourself. Together. Come on [Y/n].

CLICK.

A click and flash pulled my attention off of my hands. I'm only a bit startled.. But not enough to be upset. I hear that noise often. I'm able to drown it out. I sniffle and look down at my hands. Wet and gross. But the hands are gone. It's gone. I'm okay. I'm alright. I can be okay for Michael... I think. I dont think he even fucking cares, he doesn't even know me. I take a deep breath, before pulling my ass up off of the ground and wrapping my wrists up. I changed into something comfortable, but not too comfortable and I went outside and.. I waited outside patiently for him to arrive. It's around 5 ish by now; and it's starting to get dark.

He should be here soon. His truck pulled around the corner. What good timing. I walked over to his truck, going around and sitting in the passenger's seat. "Hey." I said simply as I got situated on the pleather seat, buckling my seatbelt. "Hey!" He gleamed. Some concern flashes across his face. He did a U-turn and started making his way home. "So how was your day?" He asked. "... It was... Um... How was yours?"

"It was good." He had a smile on his face. Sometimes I wonder if he's only being nice to me out of pity, but I suppose it doesn't necessarily matter. I realize we don't live too far apart. A good 10-15 minutes. We didn't talk much, seeing as we've only been truly acquainted yesterday. Yet I feel like I've known him for years. Maybe it's his inviting energy, or the way he has nothing to hide. The driveway was empty as he pulled in. He wordlessly put the truck in part and took the key out of the ignition.

I hopped out of his truck. The surroundings are very familiar, now that I've been here, yet the lavender hue still seems to amaze me. I slowly followed him inside. This time he took off his shoes,and I did the same. There's music playing in the kitchen. (cough cough wash by miki matsubara cough cough yes haru is in this fanfic cough cough) He smiled. I cocked my head. He slowly crept through the small hallway, making his way to the familiar kitching. I followed behind him. There was a different man in the kitchen this time. It was definitely not what I had imagined. He had beautiful curly locks cascading down his back, and framing his face. He was preparing some sort of lunch, so I got a good view of his face. He's also punk. That too. Omg. He's. GORGEOUS. UGH. "Hey papa." Michael said. WHAT. THAT'S HIS DAD'S BOYFRIEND? DEFINITELY NOT WHAT I WAS IMAGINING. "Hello Michael, you're right on time, I was just making a snack." He smiled. His voice has a bit of an accent, I can't figure it out though. "Thanks! I really appreciate it! By the way, this is (Y/n)." I smiled awkwardly and waved. He put out a hand. "Haru. Nice to meet you (Y/n)." I slowly put my hand out, shaking his. "Nice to meet you too." They seem very close, it's just kinda awkward because I'm here.