Countdown (MC)

8 - Yellow

Michael's POV
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(June 1st, 2015)

"Vivienne? Michael? Are either one of you awake yet?" I heard Viv's mother whisper shout from the doorway, her hand gently pecking the wooden door as she started her sentence.

"I'm up." I croaked out, lazily turning my head towards the door so I could see Florence clearly. "But I'm not so sure about Vivienne." I continued and peered down to her daughter's head once I got comfortable in my new position.

"That's fine. I was just wondering if I need to start cooking breakfast yet." She paused and assured me after she took notice in my hand that was moving up to Vivienne's shoulder, getting ready to shake her awake.

Smiling back at her as she exited the room, I nodded my head one time and slowly let my eyelids fall shut again. My peace didn't last long though. I was soon brought out of my daze by Florence entering a second time.

"Sorry to disturb you Michael, but since you're awake, can I talk to you for a minute?" She sounded hesitant and alarmed - which scared me slightly - so I didn't try questioning, I just climbed out of bed and followed her down the hallway and into their kitchen.

"Is everything alright Florence?" I questioned, letting my curiosity out into the open.

"For the most part, yes." She mumbled, taking a seat on one side of the kitchen island while I did the same but on the other. "I've just noticed something different about you lately."

"Different good or different bad?" I chuckled nervously, picking at my nubby fingernails out of nervous habit.

"I think of it as more of a good different but for you, it could be either-or." She answered relatively quickly, probably because she saw my hands twiddling and picking at each other oddly.

"O-okay." I stuttered, really wishing she'd get on with her accusations rather than watching me sweat out enough sweat to fill an Olympic sized pool.

"I guess I could say that these past few months you've been more happy and eager than I've ever seen you. You have also been exceedingly more close to my daughter than you used to be." She tapped her long, red-coated fingernails against the marble countertop her hands were rest upon, smirking when I started coughing up a lung.

"I a-am not." I scoffed, falling back against the backrest of my chair, sinking down into the seat as much as I could in hopes that I could just disappear from this room and conversation right now.

"Don't deny it, Michael. I know for a fact it's true. I don't need you to confirm or deny that 'cause I've seen your behavior change beneath my own eyes." She shook her head side to side slowly, crossing her arms in front for her chest as she took in my lack of response.

"You do know that if you are worried about anything - especially if that something is about me or my daughter - you can come and talk to me right? You can tell me absolutely anything." Uncrossing her arms, she leaned forwards and calmly rested her hand on my forearm.

"I know that." I nodded my head up and down understandingly. "I trust you more than I trust my own parents actually."

Thankfully she chose the ignore my last statement for now - but I know she won't just let that one go - and only commented on the first. "So then, do you have anything you want to tell me?"