Michael's POV
"Hi..." I murmured quietly, leaning in the doorframe of her dimly lid room, the darkness from outside her window giving away, that it sure had to be past midnight.
Allison's head swung over to me as she sat up on the edge of the bed, eyes swollen and red, only letting me guess how long it took her to stop crying.
She bit her lower lip and it seemed like she didn't really know what to do.
We let a few seconds pass wordlessly, before she raised herself off the mattress, anger coming across her face with each slow step she made towards me.
In the moment, where only inches were separating us, I saw her angered face even better, noticing how she pursed her lips, trying to find words as I copied her action, now tasting blood on my tongue.
I slowly pushed myself off the doorframe, trying to reduce the uncomfortably huge gap between us.
She looked down at my bruised knuckles before hesitantly returning her gaze to my eyes and I saw the disappointment and anger sparkling in hers.
"Fuck you, Michael" she whispered with a pained expression.
One more thing was there in the depth of this leaf-green shade circling around her iris, but I couldn't figure what.
My lips parted in shock when she pulled me into an unexpected, tight embrace and she started breathing shakily against my shoulder; fingers digging into the material of my jacket.
Relief. That was the thing, I recognized.
"I would beat you up so badly if you wouldn't look as shattered yet" Allison growled when she pulled back, angrily wiping one last tear away as she pulled the end of my sleeve with her, forcing me to make clumsy steps, following her to the bed.
"Just sit down and-" she pushed her hair back with a sigh. "well, we had this before, you know what to do" with one tender but firm hand-movement, she pressed me down on the mattress to leave the room, not really giving me an option to her order.
When I threw my jacket over her desk chair, now pulling my shirt over my head, I realized that there sure had to be some pulled muscles in my arm. It hurt like a bitch.
"You look horrendous" I now heard her voice when she returned with something to medicate me with and my eyes left the bruises around my torso as I dropped my finger which was poking a swollen spot.
"Can't be that bad..." was my reply as she sat down next to me, nodding with her teeth attacking her lip.
"Michael, you look like you were run-over by a truck. It really is bad."
She shakily moved her small fingers across my chest to push me into the sheets, now pulling out a few wet whips with disinfect, taking care of the scratches in my face and on my torso.
YOU ARE READING
Cigarettes and Valentines
Hayran Kurgu"There is not such a thing as regret for me. Everything that happens to us will affect us in a certain way" - Michael G. Clifford ________________________________ My name is Allison Jane Parker and this is the story of how I learned that things will...
