Benches | Mashton AU |

9. Rooftops

I smile as the I sit down at the head of the table and wait patiently. "You know, you could always, I don't know, help?" Someone shouts from the kitchen.

"I'm an old man. I could break a hip or something," I retort, shuffling in my seat to get comfortable. Slowly, everyone sits down at the table, and I grin at them. We had squeezed as much of the family as we could around the small table so there was about 11 of us, only a small number of my children and grandchildren.

Just before everyone starts eating I stop them and say, "I think we should say grace before eating,"

Everyone turns to look at me in confusion. Mikayla quickly yells, "Grace!" and takes a huge mouthful of potatoes, everyone else following her lead. I roll my eyes, wondering how on Earth I raised a family full of sarcastic shíts.

I beam as everyone piles into the living room, sitting on the sofa or on the ground, crowding around the tv to watch a few old home videos. With their attention fixed on the screen, they don't notice me putting on my coat and leaving.

I walk with a little skip in my step, swinging my arms back and forth. By now, it's dark, the little circles of light from the lampposts the only way I can see in front of me, but I know the way like the back of my hand.

The street is eerily quiet, my footsteps the only thing cutting through the silence. I sing under my breath, my voice shaky, "Oh, I can see now that all of these clouds are following me in my desperate endeavour..."

April 14th

52 years 33 days ago

7 years and 278 days before

"...To find my whoever, wherever she may be," Michael finishes singing softly as he rocks Henry back and forth in his arms, stepping from side to side until our son finally shuts his eyes, falling asleep with his little head against Michael's chest.

When he places the baby gently back in the cot, he stops for a moment, watching Henry sleep with a fond expression. I quickly and quietly make my way across the nursery, wrapping my arms around him from behind.

Mikey jumps a little in surprise, but when I giggle lightly his body relaxes and he turns around in my arm so he's facing me. I stand on my tip toes and kiss his nose lightly, so he scrunches it in this freaking adorable way.

"I told you I'd get it. You could've stayed in bed," he says softly, brushing his thumb across my cheek as he smiles sleepily.

"I know, but his crying woke me up anyway. I don't think I can get back to sleep," I reply, my glasses slipping down my nose, but Michael quickly pushes them up for me, "I'll get us some snacks,"

Michael yawns and agrees, so I disappear into the kitchen. I quickly search the cupboards for something to eat, and deciding on a packet of oreos. Running my hands through my messy hair, I pull my sleeves further over my hands, smirking a little when I realise I had thrown on Michael's jumper.

I quietly sneak back to our bedroom, but Michael's not there and the blanket on our bed is gone. I sigh, glancing around and then check the nursery, then Luke's room, Olivia's room and the bathroom. "Gordon, where the fuck are you?" I shout whisper, my eyebrows furrowed.

I hear light giggling from outside and, confused, I open the window. I poke my head out and look from left to right half heartedly, convinced I had just imagined it. I'm about to close the window when I hear Michael whisper shouting back at me, "Hey, don't swear,"

I look up to see him on the roof, calmly lying on our blanket and looking at me as if it were the most ordinary thing to do at 2am in the morning. I shrug my shoulders, deciding to give into the cheesy and romantic madness that is Michael Clifford.

I hoist myself through the window, landing ungracefully on our fire escape. I climb the rusty ladder attached to the wall, oreos in hand. I throw them at Michael as I clamber onto the roof, but his hand- eye co-ordination isn't the best, and instead they just hit him in the face.

"Oh fúck face!" He exclaims, rubbing his nose. I giggle as I join him, he lays down on the blanket so that I can cuddle into his side and he can wrap his arms around my shoulders.

I open the packet and hold an oreo in front of my face, then look into the distance as if I'm thinking something really deep, "Sometimes those you love can hurt you the most,"

Michael groans, "I hate you so much,"

"I hate you too," I retort as I wrap my arms around his waist, lying my head on his chests and entangling our feet. I look at the stars, eating the oreo quickly and we lie together in comfortable silence for a while. I look over at Michael to find him already staring at me, and I can feel myself blushing a little.

He brushes his hands over my shoulders and down my back, resting them at the bottom of my spine and he kisses me slowly, lovingly. I smile into the kiss a little, pulling him even closer to me. He pulls back a little, so our lips are barely touching and mumbles, "That's got to be my favourite thing,"

"What?" I giggle, leaning my forehead against his

"Being able to stare at you, and not have to look away when I get caught. Because you're mine, and I can look at you whenever I want, and kiss you whenever I want and I can yell from the rooftops that you're my boyfriend,"

"I can do that stuff too. Especially the yelling from the rooftops." I tell him, and I stand up, a little shaky, but Michael grabs my legs to stop me falling. I look down at him, a bemused expression on his face then I look at the sky, spread my arms wide and shout at the top of my lungs, "I LOVE YOU, MICHAEL CLIFFORD!"

I look up, and I'm met with a pair of teary green eyes. For a moment, the line between memory and reality becomes blurred, and I think it's Michael, until I remember with a lurch that it couldn't possibly be.

"Grandpa, we've been looking for you for so long, we were so worried," Mikayla whispers as she pulls me into a hug, crying onto my shoulder as I wrap my arms around her and try to shush her as if she's a baby. She quickly takes the empty seat beside me on the bench, curling up into my side as I keep my arm around her thin shoulders comfortingly.

The walk home is less lonely, filled with my family asking about a hundred different questions, which I try to answer but it's so, so hard when I can't remember.

I smile secretly, when I see the sun rising over the rooftops of the buildings, and I can remember something, at least. I remember the echo of those four words, still as true now as they were then, "I love you, Michael Clifford,"

[A/N]: Gahhhhhhh. Sorry for lack of updates but exams urgh :/

Anyway, I still haven't introduced Calum or the possibility of Cake smh. On the bright side though, that chapter was like 1.2 k words and I've changed all the before dates to have an extra seven years (like this chapter said 10 years before) bc I'm a sentimental bítch.

Thanks for the votes and comments and for sticking with this even when I was being a shít about updating (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧