Stupid Love || Michael Afton x Reader

forty six - wishes

Contains light depressive themes!

July 6th 1993.

Michael had been staying over for the past week. Even though he wasn't at home most the time, just like me, I could tell something was off with him. He had been acting weird all week, barely eating, not being able to sleep, shit like that. I was starting to think that maybe it was the night we did... you know, maybe I had said something particularly wrong?

Or maybe it was the night when I offered him to come to California with me? Except that wouldn't make sense, he doesn't have anything to worry about that.

I unloaded another load out of the washing machine, stacking the pile of clothes into a basket and making my way into the living area.

I raised my eyebrows, noticing a beautiful bouquet of flowers, mixed with several colours and species, mainly in white. Cold water dripped from the edges of the stem, off onto the floor.

Michael must of came home while I was catching up on chores, Terry wasn't home yet so whoever placed those flowers on the table, it couldn't be her.

I approached the table, inspecting the bouquet of flowers. I was technically looking for a tag because I had to admit, I was slightly curious on who it was for but there was nothing.

I glanced up to the glass door that led to the balcony in front of the kitchen island, behind the curtain covering the glass was a dark figure. I sighed as I made my way to it, opening the balcony door and stepping into it.

The breeze was warm. The sky was a bit dull and cloudy, mainly because of the heavy rain the clouds have provided us with for the past few days but a beautiful orange glow shown through it, lightening the entire street.

"Mike..." I said, trying my best to sound cheery. Michael was leaning against the rusty metal railing, staring out over the roofs and buildings ahead of us. He had a lit cigarette in between his fingers, occasionally bringing it up to his lips and taking a drag. He coughed loudly the second he heard me, waving his smoke around with a panicked look on his face.

"Shit! Don't scare me like that Y/N..." Mike exclaimed, cursing under his breath and hanging his head again. He did not sound happy.

I cleared my throat, walking over to the other side of the balcony where the drying rack was. "I didn't see you come home."

A loud grunt, or some kind of strangled sound echoed from his mouth which directed my attention to him as I shook out some of the soaking wet clothes, placing them delicately on the drying rack to let them dry.

"Are you okay?" I eventually asked, letting my voice soften as I positioned one of Terry's tops on the rack. "You've been a bit miserable for the past few days. I hope it isn't something I did."

Michael blew out smoke with a sigh, shaking his head. "You didn't do anything, don't worry I just- I need time to think."

I raised my eyebrows. "Think about... what?"

"It- it doesn't matter."

I abandoned the basket as quickly as I could, leaning against the railing beside him, placing my hand gently over his free hand which was gripping the metal bar.

"Okay well... who are the flowers for? I saw some on the table." I attempted a smile, jokingly. "I hope they're for me."

Mike chuckled lightly but it faded quickly, his cigarette retreating to his mouth again, taking a heavy puff from it and blowing out a large cloud of smoke. "No its for- it's for Evan."

My weak smile dropped, a wave of tension passing through us. I could feel the way Michael's body slightly vibrated from time to time, under my touch, causing me to interlace our fingers with a gentle grip.