𝐬𝐲𝐦𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐲 | 𝐦. 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐨𝐧

ten.

michael stood outside your house for a while, contemplating whether or not he should be here right now. he didn’t want to scare you off since you had only been friends for a couple of weeks and he had kind of been avoiding you as of late. ever since the two of you hung out he just felt awkward. everything that happened with ricky and then his dad when he got home that day just made him feel bad. he felt helpless and he didn't want to drag you down and make you think he didn't enjoy spending time with you. he hated all this stupid shit happening to him. it was all ruining the only good thing he had right now. it didn’t feel appropriate for him to avoid you without telling you why and then just showing up all beat up out of nowhere. it truly wasn't fair to either of you.

in the end, he decided he didn't really have anywhere else to go and he didn't want to spend his time walking around aimlessly. he's wandered these streets countless times when clearing his head and he was tired. he just needed to relax. he knocked three times, bouncing on the heels of his feet as he waited for someone on the other side to open it. he hoped it was you instead of one of your parents. it would be hard to explain why he was here if it was your parents.

you were quick to get to the door since your parents were busy making dinner and you were just in the living room doing homework and watching tv. “did you guys invite someone over?” you called out as you stood up to meet whoever was outside. your parents denied inviting anyone over as you opened the door to see michael all beat up on the other side. you looked him up and down before pulling him inside. not a word was exchanged between the two of you. you didn’t need to know exactly what happened since it was pretty obvious just by looking at him. you brought michael up to the bathroom and dug around beneath the counter to pull out a first aid kit and clean him up.

he hopped up on the counter, looking down as you sorted through the first aid kit. you looked up at him and let out a sigh. “you could have given me a warning first. you do have my number after all,” you teased and laughed softly. “are you alright? is anything broken? when did this happen?” you asked, bombarding him with questions. 

he choked up as he tried to answer, looking down and shaking his head. guilt washed over you and you moved your hand, gently cupping his cheek. your touch was gentle and you made sure not to press against the bruises and cause pain. you didn't want to make him hurt more than he already was. you assumed this is why he wasn’t at school today. 

“hey, it’s okay. you don’t have to tell me anything right now. i’m sorry for asking you so many questions like that,” you said softly. you wiped a tear away as it rolled down his cheek. “it’s okay to cry, michael,” you said, tilting your head a bit to meet his eyes since he was looking away from you. 

he was quiet, only sniffling and taking slow breaths. he moved a hand and gently pushed your hand away from his face. “i’m sorry for just showing up like this. i didn’t have anywhere else to go and i just needed to get out of my house,” he explained, his voice trembling and breaking as he spoke.

“it’s alright. don't apologize for needing help. i'll clean you up, okay?" you assured him before turning away and grabbing a hand towel from the bathroom closet. you dampened the towel with warm water before turning to michael and gently wiping off the blood stained to his skin. you pulled away each time he winced and did your best to avoid the cuts and not press too hard. you gently dabbed around the scrapes and when you were done you put the blood stained rag in the tub so it could dry but not make a mess of your bathroom.

“did ricky do this to you?” you asked, as you grabbed cotton swabs and rubbing alcohol to clean his cuts and keep them from getting infected. you pressed the cotton swab against the lip of the bottle, quickly flipping it before setting it back down and gently grabbing michael’s arm. “this is gonna sting,” you warned him.