A single bullet // M.C ✔️

44

"Can you two ever not get shot? If it's not you, Nicky, it's Michael." Luke scoffed, his voice dripping in annoyance as he bandaged up Michael. "What did you even do to get Ash to shoot you? That's impossible for us."

"I've only been shot once, Luke."

"He mentioned her, Luke." Michael cut me off, muttering, avoiding all contact with me and just staring at Luke (as if he was the only person in the room). "I just snapped."

"He didn't..." Luke muttered in shock, shaking his head. "Mike-,"

"Don't, Luke," his eyes finally flicked to mine, making Luke do one single nod and drop the conversation, going back to making sure the bandage was secure. "Get changed." His tone was back to being harsh towards me, cutting through me and any feelings I was growing towards him. It was at that point I realised I was still wearing the red and gold dress, the dress Ashton had made a comment about. "Now, Nicky," he roared as he noticed I didn't move, making me kick into gear.

My shoes clanged off the floor as I rushed to where I had been sleeping, letting myself fall onto the bed and pull my shoes off, throwing them against Michael's wall; they fell perfectly next to it. I took a deep breath, squeezing my eyes shut, running my hand over the smooth fabric of the dress, hugging my body. No wonder it showed everything I like to hide; it weren't mine. Slowly, I stood up and shut the door, letting the small click fill the now quiet apartment. Luke and Michael had gone silent, probably due to the bang I had caused.

The wardrobe door was still open from when I was here a few hours ago, just hunting for something to wear. It was the only suitable thing in there for a meeting, and he never mentioned it when he first saw me.

Anger soared into my blood as I clenched my fists, scowling. Why didn't he tell me to take the darn dress off before the meeting if he didn't want me to wear it so badly? Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I sighed once again, seeing how much I liked how I looked down.

I was oozing confidence. I finally felt good, which I didn't before when seeing myself, but something had changed. It had clicked in me... Michael had gotten shot for me...

Soft fabric was under my fingertips as I ran my hand over the items of clothing hanging up. My eyes tried to find something to change into. Nothing in here was mine. And I hated how certain clothes were calling my name. Oversized hoodies and long-sleeve shirts were looking so comfy as they hung in front of my eyesight. A pair of joggers were folded along the bottom. It was as if someone had chosen this outfit prior to me wanting to change. Thank you, Kensie.

I grabbed the long-sleeved shirt that had black and white striped sleeves and the pair of black joggers, chucking them over the bed. I glanced down at the outfit, walking back over to the wardrobe. I grabbed a stray black beanie that would definitely be too big for my head. I knew the clothes were Michael's this time. They screamed Michael, and since I now know it's his room, it makes perfect sense. There is nothing of mine...

"Fuck it." I scoffed and unzipped the dress, letting it pool at my feet before stepping out of the crumbled material and grabbing the joggers, sliding them up my legs. I had to fold the bottom up a few times and roll the waist down to make them fit me properly, but the soft fabric felt amazing.

The top was next, falling off my right shoulder slightly, and the sleeves went over my hands. The scent of Michael flooded my senses as I reached out and grabbed his beanie, placing it on before catching my appearance. I looked like I was with him. Just a girlfriend wearing her boyfriend's clothes as she sleeps over for a night. Only I can't leave, and I'm not his girlfriend. The necklace was still dangling around my neck, and I didn't want to remove it. It reminded me of Mom and every time Michael showed his soft and sensitive side before he turned harsh again. It was a reminder he was the person I know, sometimes just masking it with a hard exterior.