The Unexpected

31 || The Present

"Don't forget to add cream!" Michael yells to me from his bedroom, his voice echoing through the apartment.

I'd finally summoned enough energy to get out of bed and drag myself over to Michael's kitchen. The cold, stone tile that covers the floor was a shock to the warm bottoms of my feet. A shiver ran down my spine, giving me goosebumps.

The over-used coffee maker is steaming whilst it produces two warm drinks for Michael and I. As the coffee brewed, I searched the fridge for the french vanilla and the half-and-half. Waiting for the beverage to finish I began to search for some breakfast.

It was almost noon, and Michael and I hadn't left his bed all morning. We had occupied our time with netflix and youtube videos streaming on the television's AppleTV. When I had woken up this morning, I was ready to head home, but Michael had begged me to spend the day with him.

I've begun to notice a comfortableness that I feel only around Michael. With all of the boys, I've learned to come out of my shell a bit more, but with him it's so different. Back home, I knew not many of my "friends" really liked me, and that put me in a constant state of paranoia. I never knew if I was being an annoyance to the people whose time I was occupying. That was why I was so reserved when it came to growing close to the boys.

As I've been in Sydney, my four idiots have proved to me over and over again how they really do want me around. I'm not quite sure how I've found myself in this position, but I thank God that this is where I am.

The coffee maker beeps, signaling for me to pour two mugs and add the appropriate creams. I grab a spoon from one of the many drawers in the kitchen and stir the drinks quickly.

Rushing back into the room, I almost spill my cup all over Michael's giant band t-shirt.
Our size difference was never so apparent to me until I wore one of his shirts to bed, being completely swallowed by the fabric.

"You said you wanted it black with sugar, right?" I ask as I plop onto the bed next to a groggy, platinum haired boy.

"Nooooo," he groans.

I begin to giggle as I hand him his drink saying, "shut up, you boob. I know how you like your coffee."

"You're the best!" He squeals, instantly perking up as he reaches for the warm ceramic mug.

It seems as though my coffee addiction has begun to rub off on my boyfriend. Cautious of the hot liquid in our hands, we slowly snuggle back up under the covers, my head resting on Michael's shoulder. Warmth radiates from him, comforting me for some reason.

I subtly leave a small kiss on his shoulder, then reposition my head to where it had been. The screen revives itself as a Pokémon begins to play. I can feel Michael shift slightly each time he raises his cup to his mouth.

The platinum haired boy exhales then says, "you're a pain, you know that?"

"What did I even do?" I ask as I sit up abruptly, spilling coffee on the comforter. My eyes shift up to his as I smile nervously at him and whisper, "oops."

"Let me rephrase," he begins as he breaks into hysterics. We both get out of bed, and Michael grabs the comforter. Still laughing, he continues, "well, actually, it's more of a pain when you're gone... like on those days when you just want to be home even when I beg you to go out to lunch with me. Or, like when you have to stay here while we go and do promo for the album. I feel like, a physical pain when I'm not with you. It's actually more of an ache. I can feel something, like, missing."

Standing in front of the washer machine, I study the boy's face; vulnerability covering every inch of him. Reaching for his wrist, I pull him towards me, noticing his racing pulse. He looks down at me, with silence being the only thing between us. I gently grab his chin between my thumb and pointer finger, pulling his face so it's level with mine.