After|| Byler

Chapter eleven

Warnings: sensitive topics & mild content

"Mike" I speak softly letting my presents be known.

"What are you doing here will?" Mike says Coldly while holding a bottle in his hands, I walk over towards him in the lounge chair.

"I was worried about you" I said while bringing my arms around my chest from the cold breeze, as The Silents in the air grows thicker between us, Mike looks up from the floor and then at me.

"shouldn't you be with that perfect little boyfriend of yours" he says, which takes me back, is he jealous or something.

Clicking back to reality I say the quickest thing my mind could've thought of.

"Don't bring Luke into this" I say while walking  closer to him.

That's when Mike picks up the bottle of whiskey that was by his side.

"since when do you drink?" I asked trying to lighten the mood, since I've never actually seen him do that before.

"I usually don't, but why does it matter?" He says with a shrug.

I let go of a sigh a small cloud following from my breath from the coldness.

"Well, you kinda made quit the mess in there...in the kitchen" I pointed behind me.

Mike looked behind me, "just a little celebration that's all" he says sarcastically.

"Celebration?...a celebration for what?" I asked bringing my hands to my hips.

"Oh? You didn't hear?" Mike says yet again in another sarcastic tone, "that dear old dad of mine is finally doing something useful with his lazy life" he laughs to himself as I bring my hands in front of me as he continued.

"I wonder how many teens it took mom to sleep with until he finally opened his damn eyes and realized" Mike says holding the bottle in his hands looking down at it.

I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my sweatpants before this escalated.

"D-don't you think you've had enough of that already?" I asked briefly, as Mike stopped looking at the bottle, Just letting it go from his hands letting glass shatter everywhere.

"Dammit" I muttered to myself quietly as I'm quick to get to my knees and gather every single piece of glass (it's an old habit)

Mike

I watch as Will gets onto his knees in front of me trying to pick up every shard of glass.

"Don't, Will leave it I-I'll pick it up" but he ignores me and tries his best to collect every piece.

"Dammit" I hear him say underneath his breath, as I knelt down in front of him taking his hand into mine which now has a tiny gash across his palm.

"Come with me" I say while pulling us up off the ground and into the house, into my room.

Getting Will to sit down on my bed, I opened the drawer next to it, taking out banged and rubbing alcohol.

Taking his hand into mine dabbing the cut with a cloth as He hisses at the rubbing alcohol as it hits against his skin.

Adding pressure to the wound Will's hand moves a little, looking up at him and then down again leaving the cloth there, Will placing his own hand adding pressure as I sit next to him.

"I'm sorry for...how I treated you" I say as Will looks at me and then towards the wall.

"I-I mean if you don't, do serious relationships then that's just how you feel" he says softly.