rebel ➳ clifford au

➳ 10

READ AUTHOR'S NOTE AT THE END. dedicated to patricia because i just  felt like it, lol. hope you like it. check out her book  video it's SO good. okay? okay.

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10. sorry  if i smothered you.

•R•

I was never a morning person; not before, not now, not ever. Waking up took a lot of will power from me and the action itself tired me out, making me fall back into my bed and sleep for a second round.

But today, I'd never gotten up so quickly.

Opening up my eyes, I knew something was wrong, I felt it in the air.

The place was different, this was not my bed nor Ashton's apartment. The humid smell was not familiar and the paper-like sheets sat uncomfortably, covering my bare skin.

Bare.

"Michael," I whispered, remembering the events of last night like a high rush. "Michael," I said louder, sitting on the bed.

Looking around the room, I saw no signal of the guy with the funky hair, and the ambient itself made me feel like I was left alone in this moldy motel room.

I stood up, my feet feeling the cold of the tiles as they guided me along the room.

I looked inside the bathroom, the closet, even outside at the lobby, but there was no sign from Michael.

I plopped back into the bed, this one making a weird worn out noise, and looked for my cellphone on the nightstand, but something else catched my eye. There was money on the nightstand.

My eyes watered.

Realization hit me and it hurt; Michael really did leave.
I kept looking for my phone, but this time I wasn't going to call him.

A few tears already rolled down my cheeks, but I had to wipe them off as fast as I could, I can't be crying for something like this.

But it hurt; Michael left me, and it hurt. He took advantage of me knowing in the state I was, he layed me down on the bed and treated me with such care it almost felt real. I felt used, and it hurt. I thought he really did want to help me get out of a bad situation, to stop seeing Ashton's smile with that blondie at the diner- and to a certain point, he did, because I wasn't thinking about them anymore, but about Michael and why he would leave me there.

Was all how he saw me as? A one night stand, a quick fuck? I couldn't believe it. After being so nice, so kind, so understanding... I should've known.

I stood up from the bed and dried the tears that dared to spill out of my eyes; this wasn't me, crying over Michael when I should be crying over Ashton and that bimbo.

Grabbing the money and putting my clothes back on, I slipped on my shoes and left the motel with a cigarette in between my lips.

I didn't want to go back home yet, and I certainly didn't want to see my friends nor Ashton; I couldn't go to the beach, because something told me the guy with that funky hair would be there, so I decided to wander around.

I took a taxi, gave out a random direction and hoped that this day would soon be over.

- - - - -

In my mind, Jack Daniels at 5 p.m. sounded like a good idea, just like JD for breakfast sounded like, and those both ideas resulted horribly wrong.