Yours // 5sos

Chapter 27

The hotel room is quiet.

Ashton doesn't dare speak, Calum left to his room, and Michael has insisted to give me space because he knows how I don't want to be touched right at this moment.

And he doesn't want to talk about what just happened.

Calum had been surprised as all hell when Michael had come out of him and Luke's room supporting me around the waist, me still shivering like an idiot. My hair was a complete mess and my shirt was wrinkled. He asked what happened but Michael shut him up with a quick "I'll talk about it later" before shoving past him to get to his and Ashton's room.

Calum followed us down, not speaking. He had one hand placed on my back, obviously sensing something went wrong. Michael kept whispering reassurances in my ear his lips once in a while brushing my ear, trying to comfort me.

Now, I sit on Michael's bed, legs crossed, head down, hands clutching the comforter. My thoughts are swimming through my head at such a fast pace that it's hard to focus on all that happened in the past two weeks.

But it comes in flashes.

I met a boy. He was amazing, perfect even. I met his friends. They were all hot. He wanted to have sex. But he wanted to respect my space. I stayed with him a night. The next day one of his friends asked for sex. When I wouldn't give it, he vowed he would if it was the last thing he did. I went on tour with this amazing band. The amazing boy became my boyfriend. We had struggles but got through them. I tried to avoid the punk boy.

I fell in love with the punk boy.

I stopped feeling for the amazing boy.

Tonight the amazing boy and the punk boy changed for me.

I now want to avoid the amazing boy and I want to be with the punk boy.

"Are you okay?"

The hoarse voice interrupts my poisonous thoughts, and I'm actually grateful for it. I look up and see Michael sitting on the side of Ashton's bed, looking at me with worry in his eyes.

I pinch my lips together. Do I say yes, to reassure him? Or do I say no, because that would be the truth?

"I don't know," I whisper.

He looks away. He's battling with himself. But right now his overall worry is me. I'm not sure why, though.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly. He avoids my eyes, but I can tell he means it.

I cock my head to the side. "Sorry about what?"

"Everything."

A quick laugh escapes my mouth. "Specific."

He smiles a small smile. "You know what I mean. You've gone through so much. And I'm partly to blame."

"Stop," I state. "You already have been forgiven. I've told you, stop beating yourself up."

He shakes his head. "Just because you say it's okay, doesn't mean it was. I hate myself for doing what I did."

"Michael. God," I snap. "Stop it."

He looks up in surprise. "What?"

"You can't hold onto it. Forgive and forget. Do you want me to hate you for what you did? Is that what you want?" I snap.

He shakes his head quickly. "No no I don't."

"Then don't hate yourself. Hell, forget you did that. I want you to forget," I tell him.

He pinches his lips together. I sigh, standing up. I go and sit next to him. "I want you to forget it. God...if we want to make something of our feelings...we need to be able to forgive each other and ourselves. Please."