the notes [m.c.]

twenty three- bar

i better not fucking regret it.

I put my phone in my back pocket and looked at Michael. his jaw was clenched-tight.

he looked so angry.

"Mikey?" I asked softly.

"yeah?" Michael still looked forward.

"are you okay? are you mad?" I didn't look away from michael and I kept my voice soft.

"honestly, no. I'm just tired of Ashton. so fucking tired," michael finally admitted.

"I think I know what will make it better. there's a bar down the road, not too far. what do you say to a beer and a round of pool?" I smiled softly and rubbed my hand on his knee.

"damn it, Devon. why have you been hiding this?" michael chuckled and got up, offering his hand to help me.

I hopped up with his help and we headed back into cabin.

"get the keys, I need to grab something," I scurried to the bedroom and grabbed my leather jacket off of the bed, then throwing my big jacket onto the bed.

when I walked back into the living room, I saw Michael pacing with his phone pressed against his face.

"fuck, Ashton. stop ignoring my calls. I don't like you trying to be friends with devon, okay? I'm fucking tired of this shit. she's mine. get over it. just fucking call me or answer the next time I call you," I heard michael say into the phone as I hid around the corner

well, hot damn.

michael was most definitely keeping his cool when I was around him.

he's been so patient with me and the whole Ashton thing. well, we did only breakup about a week ago.

"ready?" I walked towards him quickly, giving the illusion I hadn't been snooping.

"yeah. but, first, come here," michael held his arms opened and I giggled.

I walked over to him and hugged him tightly, his arms wrapping quickly around me.

I nuzzled my face into his neck, as I do whenever we hug.

"i fucking love you," Michael whispered.

I don't think he wanted me to hear, because he said it so softly-as if under his breath.

I smiled widely into his skin and kissed his neck.

we headed out and hopped in the car, me in the driver's seat.

"this isn't gunna be like some weird ass bar... right? unless you're into that shit, then I guess I'm down..." michael said as I started driving.

"well, shit, Clifford. I was gunna bring you to this great bar where we could dress up as ponies. it's fucking great," I chucked sarcastically and michael flicked my leg.

"shut up," michael laughed and I shot a smirk at him.

moments later, i was parking the car. I looked over to michael, but he was already getting out of the car. he obviously wants to get some anger out.

I opened my door and got out, also. Michael was standing behind the car, leaning on the trunk.

I couldn't help but stare at him. he looked so...badass.

he was wearing his leather jacket. I fucking love that leather jacket.

it looked like he hadn't shaved in a while; his scruff obvious even though I was a decent amount of feet away from him.