Let The Flames Begin ✓ | Mikey Way

Chapter Fifteen

YEAH BACK TO BACK DAYS OF UPDATES

Instead of working on stuff counting towards my final grades I decided to write this. Whoop.

Dedication to RedDemon_Killjoy. Thanks to everyone who continued to support this story during the brief hiatus. I can't believe so many of you are reading this combination of words I call fanfiction. I love you all.

Anywho, here's the scene I got an idea for about a year ago.

*Kris's POV*

There was one thing and one thing only that was running through my mind right now.

Mikey.

I watched as he sat beside me, curled up into a ball. His head was lying on my balled up sweatshirt so that his head wouldn't be bashed into the glass window of the bus every two seconds.

This is going to sound like the most stalker-ish thing ever, but I wouldn't stop staring at him. I couldn't stop staring at the way his hair fell into his eyes. I couldn't stop staring at his eyes that were darting back and forth under his eyelids as he slept. I couldn't stop staring at his lips that were parted just enough to allow his deep breaths to escape.

If you asked me to describe my dream guy a few months ago, I would probably describe some random guy out of a magazine. But I've come to realize that Mikey is the only guy that I could ever want.

And I was so hopelessly falling in love with him.

Except he'd never love me back. I was just me, just plain old Kris. I was nothing special. I was you goody two shoes rich white girl, with a perfect family (well, perfect until recently). I've pulled him into so much shit and I would be surprised if he didn't hate me for it.

Meanwhile he was Mikey. I couldn't find a single flaw in him. The closest thing that I could find was his awkwardness, which is the most adorable thing ever. Or his small smiles that would give me butterflies every time I even pictured it.

Oh, who am I kidding? Mikey Way is the very definition of a perfect human being.

People say that you can't find love at 16 or 17. But I tell them to go screw themselves. Love is a beautiful thing, and can happen to anyone, at any time, with anyone. Everyone has the capability to love. And everyone has the capability to be loved. We might not always believe it, and we sometimes try to hide it. But it eventually all comes out.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and I nearly jumped and fell into the aisle.

"What do you want, Forrest?" I hissed.

He put his hands up in defense. "Woah. Calm your tits." He put them down and then mumbled, "or lack thereof."

I gasped and smacked him across the arm. "Did you just call me flat?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

I looked down briefly. "Well, I can't argue against that."

"Anyway," He chuckled. "I can't help but notice you keep staring at him."

I felt my cheeks heat up. "I was not-"

"Cut the crap, Kris." He shook his head. "It's so obvious."

"Is it really?"

He nodded.

"Do you think he knows?"

He shook his head and I let out a sigh of relief. "No. He's oblivious to the fact that you love him."

"I don't love-"

"Yes you do."

"I don't-"