all mine | ft. michael clifford

thirty-four;

!!!!!!!! I've linked the song that is sung in this chapter. For the purposes of this book, I have fictionally indicated that my character wrote this song. However, I do not own this song and all rights belong to the original artist. 

I've attached the song via video. And will attach it again as an 'external link'. If that still doesn't work, please search "Twelve" by La Dispute.

MAKE SURE YOU LISTEN TO THE SONG AS YOU READ THE LYRICS PRINTED IN THIS BOOK AT THE APPROPRIATE TIME FOR FULL EFFECT. !!!!!!!!!

Dedicated to 5SOS.

***

It was a Thursday. I wore a plain black dress that reached my knees and heeled boots. The fact that my whole body was shaking probably meant that choosing heels was a bad idea. My fingers were twitching in my lap and Michael must have noticed because his hand reached over and covered mine. He didn't look at me. He hadn't looked at me all morning and I knew it was because he was hardly holding it together. He was barely hanging on and I didn't blame him. This funeral was going to hurt him. It was going to hurt all of us.

Puncture marks hurt us now. Soon the wound would be gaping and un-stitchable. I was scared.

Michael drove us both in a 5SOS traditional SUV. It was just me, him and a silence that hung heavy in the air like smoke. The radio stayed untouched and our voices were mute like talking just wasn't an option because we didn't have anything to say.

There was nothing to say.

I was worried about a lot of things. I was worried about seeing my friends again for the first time since they'd all decided that they hated me. I was worried about watching them fall apart. I was worried about watching Michael fall apart. I was worried about falling apart myself. I was worried that the reality of Ashton would hit everyone harder than we could imagine and that we'd all melt into the earth together.

I was worried. And scared. And sad.

Even seeing Michael dressed in a black suit and tie didn't stop my heart from hurting. This day would hold onto us forever, keeping us captive like prisoners trying to escape a war. But this war wasn't escapable and nobody would win.

As I understood, Ashton's body was flown into Sydney on Tuesday. His lifeless, still body. Cold and no longer encasing the soul of someone bright enough to light thousands of homes. The funeral was open to family and close friends only. I wasn't sure whether I was actually invited or if I was just Michael's plus-one. Either way, I wanted to be there. I had to say goodbye properly. Closure. I needed closure. Just like everyone else.

"Are you okay?"

My head snapped sideways and my eyes locked onto his face. He glanced at me, jaw locked and mouth pursed into something that resembled concern amongst other emotions.

He was asking if I was okay. Me. What about him?

I nodded even though his attention was back on the road. Lie to him. He needs to hear the lie. "I'm okay. Are you?"

He didn't respond; didn't talk, didn't nod or shake his head. Just stared forward.

And that was answer enough. He was anything but okay. And there was nothing I could do to make him feel any better other than just being here for him if he needed.

The air conditioning was drying out my face but I didn't dare move to turn it down because Michael was busy thinking and I didn't want to interrupt whatever thoughts he was having. I just wanted to sit as still and quiet as possible in the hopes that he wouldn't break before we'd even arrived. I didn't want him to break.