Michael Afton x Reader ~ The Boy on The Bus

Chapter Twenty - The Call

As soon as Michael woke up, he knew it was going to be a bad day. All of his limbs and muscles were achy and stiff. Even his skin hurt, though it was more of a burning sensation. He only felt it whenever anything touched him, which made it very uncomfortable to do anything. He didn't know how he still felt hurt, if he was dead, shouldn't all of his nerves be dead, too?

He rose out of bed and would've stretched if it didn't feel like his arms were getting ripped off when he did so.

It had been a few days since the eye incident. He could feel his body rotting around him, his skin shifting to a horrible greenish-brown hue. The tips of his fingers and his nose were turning black. He also had started to smell, and he had to apply horrible amounts of cologne just to barely cover it up.

Michael got up and out of bed, yawning and scratching at his arm. To his horror, he felt a part of his skin peel back. He held his arm out in front of him and just stared at it. It didn't hurt as much as he thought it would, and he could see the muscle-y fleshy part underneath his skin. Surprisingly, there was only a little discolored blood, which just barely threatened to drip down his arm and onto the cold hard wood floor. This whole walking-rotting-corpse thing was starting to get on his nerves.

He walked to the bathroom and looked under your sink for something to wrap his arm up with. Later, he would go into town and find some bandages or something to wrap up with. He needed something to keep his skin from falling off. All he could find was a few band-aids, so he slapped a bunch of them on his arm and decided it was good enough.

Walking into the kitchen, he found you, making breakfast as usual.

"Good morning, love," He smiled, wrapping his arms around you.

"Good morning," You replied, setting breakfast down on the table, "Did you sleep well?"

He shrugged, "Ehh... I slept okay, I guess. You?"

"I slept fine." You smiled at him. Both of you sat down, starting to eat breakfast. As you ate, you eyed the bandages on Michael's arm suspiciously. Not only was his skin turning a sickly hue, but he also used up all of your hello kitty band-aids to cover something up.

"What happened to your arm?" You asked.

"Oh, this? I just fell off the bed. It's whatever, just a little scratch." He shrugged.

You nodded and just went back to eating your meal. All of this weird stuff going on with Michael had started to make the two of you grow distant. Sure, you made him breakfast, and he made you dinner, but those were the only times you'd really talk. You guys barely did anything fun anymore, and half the conversations you had with Michael were about if he was okay or not.

After you were done eating, you stood up and threw your plate in the sink.

"I'm going to work." you said, "I'll see you when I get home."

"Okay," Michael replied, "Love you."

Walking outside the apartment and breathing in the fresh air was calming, and it gave you a chance to try to clear your head. You really hoped that you would figure out what was happening sooner or later. Maybe you would try to get him to tell you when you got home. You walked to the bus stop.

Michael sighed as you left. Everything he had been keeping from you had been building up inside of him, and he didn't know how much longer he could keep the truth from you. He was just too scared to say anything. Anybody would be freaked out to see that their lover was a rotting corpse.

Michael spent the rest of the day cleaning your house, avoiding going outside. He knew people would be giving him odd looks, considering the fact that he had no eyes and his skin was green. But eventually, he would gain the courage to go out. He needed those bandages as soon as possible. He would have to think of an excuse for them, though... or he could just tell you the truth. As soon as he started thinking about that, though, that same familiar whisper in the back of his mind would shut him down. What was he thinking? He couldn't tell you the truth!