all mine | ft. michael clifford

fourteen;

Dedicated to Chrysanthemum for being hella rad and super cute.

Special POV: MICHAEL CLIFFORD

I hadn't expected her to say no but then again, I kinda had. There was something about her that shouted 'independent' like nothing I had ever seen before and I was hell bent on finding out exactly what it was. Hanging out with her was as close to a date as I was probably going to get so it was okay with me. I wanted to know more about her and if this was the only way she'd feel comfortable with me doing so then that was that.

"Can I drive?" She asked me as we approached the black ute I'd left parked at the curb.

I looked at her, brow raised. "Can you drive?"

She laughed and I was glad. She'd looked so terrified earlier, probably as pale as she was when she'd panicked at our place some time ago. I decided that I didn't like seeing her afraid – I especially didn't like seeing her afraid when there wasn't anything I could do about it.

"I can drive, asshole," she told me. "I'm older than you."

I smirked. "Yeah but you're at least one hundred times smaller," I teased. "Can you even reach the gas pedal?"

"Michael, you're about to make an enemy."

"A tiny enemy," I sang, tossing her the keys and sliding into the passenger seat.

She got in and put the key into ignition, switching on the engine. Shoving the thing into drive, she pulled away from the curb and into traffic.

A wide grin was on her lips. "Hey, just so you know, I don't have an American driver's licence."

I rolled my eyes at her, leaning back in the seat. "If you get arrested, I'm not bailing you out."

She gasped in fake concern. "You wouldn't bail your date out of jail?"

I grinned. "This isn't a date."

She drove with both hands on the wheel, glancing away from the road only to smile at me. "Just making sure."

"Where're we going, gorgeous?" I asked. I'd originally started calling her that in the hopes that it would embarrass her. But soon enough, I'd just gotten comfortable with it and she didn't seem to mind either.

"We're going to pick out a new bedspread for my bed," she told me, turning a corner. We were heading in the general direction of the mall. Oh shit.

***

"This one's nice," I suggested, holding out a pink one to her.

To be honest, I didn't really give a fuck about any of them. I was just ready to leave and so I'd gone with offering all kinds of patterns to her in the hope that she'd just choose one.

"That one's awful," she told me with a laugh. "Aren't you enjoying the thrill of the shop?"

The thrill of the shop?

I looked at her with a blank stare. "I'm never asking you on a date ever again, you're boring as hell."

She laughed, really loud. People turned to look at her and I couldn't help the huge grin that took over my face. "Oh my god, Mals."

She only laughed harder, trying to talk between gasps. "Am I – embarrassing – you?"

"Nah, you're bloody cute," I told her, holding back my own laugh. "I'm buying this one and we're leaving."

I picked up a blue patterned duvet set, figuring that it'd probably go with the blue that was already strewn through her little apartment. Tucking the pack under my arm, I reached for her hand and gave her a tug, walking us towards the checkout.