Wristbands - M.C.

Seven

-Michaels POV-

I only got a glimpse of her before it happened. Before I found myself terribly speechless.

Her golden eyes locked with mine. They sparkled like I'd never seen from anyone. Ever. Even behind her black Ray Bans glasses. Her hair was long and wavy, a caramel brown with blue ends. Her freckled cheeks led to her rosy lips, which were closed into a subtle frown.

"Hi, Elizabeth. I'm-" I started, walking hesitantly towards her.

"Michael." She finished for me, crossing her arms.

"Yeah." I replied, scratching the back of my neck.

"Ana, you're free to leave. I think I'll be alright, and Michael seems strong enough in case Tyler returns. And I know you'll keep a close eye on us anyways." She said, pointing at a camera in the top corner of the room that I could barely see. "And you've made sure there were no syringes for Tyler to find anyways." She told Ana, her lips curling into an eerie smile.

Ana looked at me. There was no way this girl should be strong enough to take me down, with adrenaline she could probably barely throw Luke, let alone an extra ten plus kilos. I nodded at the tiny nurse, letting her know that I'd be fine.

They'd given me a syringe filled with a sedative, which was safe in a buttoned pocket.

Ana nodded quickly back at me and stepped out, keeping the door barely open.

I glanced at the clock. Two hours down, thirty-eight to go.

"So... the nurses tell me you're pretty interesting... why don't you tell me about yourself?"

"Nice try." She said glumly as she waddled to her bed and jumped up onto it, her feet no longer able to touch the floor. She crossed her arms again.

"Uhhh.." I scratched the back of my neck again, sitting on the bed opposite her. I guess she doesn't share the room because there was no bedding on this one. I stared at the ground, searching for a conversation starter. "I like your socks... What are those? Cats?"

"Foxes." She said, staring me down. "I know you're only here to get community service hours." Her stare lifted. She flipped her legs over onto the bed so she was laying on her stomach. She stuffed her hand under the mattress and pulled out a magazine and a package of gum, which made me assume she wasn't supposed to have them.

"Well.. Yeah.. but it's more than just that..."

"Oh really now? Then tell me what that more is. Make me believe that you'd be here if I couldn't sign off hours for you."

"I- uh- have always been interested in psychology and now I get to learn about it first hand." I twiddled my thumbs together.

"Mhmm. I'm sure."

"And... I want to help someone here get better, even a little bit..."

"You're an awful liar." She said, blowing a bubble and popping it with her teeth, her nose still in the magazine.

"Would you believe me if I told you that I have my own shit to deal with too? That maybe I'm trying to get my own therapy from this, just like you are?!"

Her eyes hit mine like bullets. "I believe you." She went straight back to her reading. "But I'd rather just sign off that you did your hours than waste time pretending we're friends."

"How about I tell you something about myself and then you do the same about yourself? Hm?" I'm grasping at straws here, praying she'll just talk to me. I wasn't going to let this go. Not anymore.

"Fine." She said, looking up. "But only because you're the only new thing that'll be around here for months. And you're persistent." I sighed, accepting this.

"Ask me a question, anything." I said.

"Full name."

"Uh.. Michael Gordon Clifford." I answered, surprised that she started off so simply. "What's yours?"

"Elizabeth Jane Parker. And that doesn't count as a new question."

"Why are you here?"

"I'm sure you know, but Multiple Personality Disorder and Suicide Attempt." Her face was blank. "What do you do outside of here?"

"School. I play music. I-"

"What do you play?" She cut me off.

"Guitar."

"Bring it sometime." She demanded. "It'll take them a week to okay it, so put in paperwork soon."

"Uhm.. okay, sure. Why not."

"Question?"

"Oh, yeah..." I scratched the back of my neck. "What's your favourite colour?"

"Mine's orange, like a sunset. Tyler's is crimson."

"Tyler?"

"My alter."

"Oh."

-Elizabeth's POV-

I know I promised myself I wouldn't make this easy on him, but there was something different- something extraordinary- about him.