Stupid Love || Michael Afton x Reader

fifty two - undeciphered

Omg huge time skip 😱

Don't worry yall, pookie didn't die 😊

August 30th 1993.

The more the weeks went on,  the more worried about Michael I became.

My nightmares faded a week after I started having them; just like I said they would, but it was almost as if those terrible dreams I had were contagious. Those dreams about William trying to murder me; children's screams filling my ears; the awful crunch of Evan's head; the sudden of death of my very own boyfriend. It all happened to Michael too.

Just like I suspected, he started waking up in the middle of the night a sweaty mess. Having to go outside for a breath for fresh air. One morning he actually full on threw up because of his dream, and it was starting to scare me really bad...

He seemed a bit better now, of course after all the ibuprofen and sleeping pills I've had to shove down his throat for his headaches and insomnia. His nightmares only lasted a week like mine did but god how it affected him, I think he might of went into a small state of depression, because whatever the hell happened in his dreams; it left a bigger scar than I thought.

 My poor baby, he doesn't deserve to go through this shit all over again. Oh how I wished it could be easier for him, but I just don't know how to help.

---

I knocked hesitantly on Michael's flat door, sighing in relief when he finally answered.

His glossy blue eyes stared at me tiredly as he opened the door; light purple eye bags under his eyes, his nose and cheeks a rosy pink. To be honest, he looked like he was coming down with a cold. I greeted him with a gentle hug, breathing out shakily against his shoulder.

"Oh Michael..."

"Hey Y/N." Mike murmured softly, pulling away and smiling weakly at me. I shot him a smile back, pushing my way into his messy corridor. 

"You feeling a bit better? You look ill." I asked as I walked straight into Michael's kitchen with my small plastic bag filled with groceries. I chucked the plastic bag on the table before heading back into the hall to take off my jacket and shoes.

"I feel ill." He chuckled softly. "I think I might of caught a sick bug."

There were several cardboard boxes stacked around Michael's living room, messing it up even more than it already was. There were little items scattered around as well: photographs, scrunched up envelopes, old pin-ups and dirty clothes. A lot I recognised from our teenage years: the dumb shit that used to decorate his bedroom back in Hurricane. But why did he bring it all here?

"What's all this?" I asked softly, putting down my purse on a chair in the living room. Michael shuffled into the room, sighing heavily to himself.

"I found a bunch of my old stuff I brought back from Hurricane when I moved out." He chuckled, crossing his arms. "Weird huh? It's not the only crazy shit I had in my room, there was so much more you don't want to know about."

I nodded slowly, scuffing through the debris of paper lying around. "But why did you take it all out? You looking for something?"

Michael sighed again and shrugged. "I came across some posters and got a bit distracted, I've been rummaging through this for half an hour now."

I kneeled down slowly when I noticed a box filled with Michael's possessions, it was all the small little gadgets and shit he had in his room when we were dating. A camera, a bunch of his old tests which he failed, some random poster of a naked girl and some other weird teenage boy shit that now I can only laugh at.