Breath of the Future

Chapter 13

    *steampunk Trevor, Franklin, and Michael by artmetica on twitter**

I only fell asleep on the couch for a few minutes, the rest of the time was spent staring into the nothingness of my surroundings. I thought back to the time that I fell asleep on Michael's chest on this couch, and I longed for him to be with me again in that moment, despite how angry I was with him. I had called him a cab a couple hours before and he never returned home. I didn't care.

    He was clearly drunk when I walked up on the disgusting show that he and Trevor had become a part of, but that didn't make it hurt any less. I tried not to take it to heart but it was very difficult.
    It was the way he held my face with his large, rough hands. It was the way his lips seemed to have a magnetic pull toward mine. It was the way he said,

    "Keep saying my name like that, baby."

    And the way he told me to be safe the next morning when Dave almost kicked down the front door.

    Baby...what a stupid thought, a stupid term of endearment.

    I picked up Michael's used glass from the coffee table and threw it across the room, smashing it into a million pieces. A storm was brewing outside and large raindrops pounded against the windows like they were trying to escape the cold air of the outside. What a perfect ambiance for the moment.
    It was around 2am, and there was a knock at the door. I didn't get up to answer it at first, hoping that the lonely crackhead coming to the door at this hour would go away. But the knocking persisted.
    I hid a candlestick behind my back as I tiptoed into the foyer and up to the front door. The rain made it very difficult to see through the stained glass. I swung the door open forcefully and was about to use my candlestick on the poor, drug addicted soul on the other side when I realized...it was Michael.

    He was almost completely soaked from the rain. His dark hair stuck to his forehead and his white dress shirt was weighed down by the rain water so much that it had become see-through. One of the smaller cuts on his face had opened and a small line of blood was running down his cheek. But one thing stuck out. His dark blue eyes looked sad...so incredibly, pathetically sad.
    He was panting heavily as he held out a manila envelope and a damp piece of paper in front of him so I could see. Raindrops dripped onto his hands and off his fingertips, dancing their way down the stark white paper. I squinted my eyes and leaned in closer to see. The majority of the words were big legal terms that I couldn't understand, but there were a select few I could make out.

    "Dissolution of Marriage in RE: The Marriage of Amanda De Santa (Petitioner/Wife) and Michael De Santa (Respondent/Husband)"

    I backed away slowly to allow myself to catch my breath. She was divorcing him, just like she said she would. She actually did it...she had him served.

    "Michael I..." I breathed.

    He looked up at me over the folder and papers that were still dangling from his fingertips and gave me an angry, yet very defeated look.

    "Just come inside, please. It's cold." I begged, pulling him inside by his arm.

    I grabbed one of his leather fleece jackets off the hook in the kitchen and returned to him, peeling his wet shirt off his body and wrapping him in the warm garment instead. He sat down on the edge of the couch.

    "H-how did she get those to you at this hour?" I fumbled.

    "S-she must have a private 24/7 attorney. I'll bet it's that Call Sam guy..." Michael stuttered.

    He was shivering. I took the envelope from his hands, flipping through all the papers. I only found a bunch of sophisticated lawyer terms that I couldn't comprehend.