Tattoos ♠Muke♠ boyxboy

Tattoos: Chapter Nineteen

You're all gonna hate me lol

Third person P.O.V

Three months later

"I'm free!" Luke exclaimed as he and Michael walked out of the hospital. Michael rolled his eyes fondly.

"Shut up and drive us home." Michael said. Luke pouted but nodded and got in his truck, Michael doing the same.

The boys drove home and Michale sat down on the couch once he got inside.

"I'm gonna make us celebratory sandwiches!" Luke exclaimed, running into the kitchen. Michael laughed as he turned on the TV.

"Don't handle knives, baby!" Michael called out. He heard a faint 'yeah, yeah.' Before smiling.

Michael was enjoying an episode of Adventure Time when a knock on the door startled him.

"Can you get the door, babe? My hands are full at the moment!" Luke called out from the kitchen.

"Yeah!" Michael called back as he got up from the couch. Michael walked to the door and opened it.

Standing there, was a man in a dark brown long jacket and a cap that you would see investigators wear.

"Mr. Clifford?" The man asked.

"That's me. How can I help you?" Michael said with a smile. The man handed him an envelope and walked away without another word.

Michael frowned.

"It's my hair, isn't it?" He mumbled.

Michael looked at the envelope with furrowed eyebrows and shut the door. He walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table.

Luke was too occupied with making sandwiches to notice Michael sitting down.

Michael tore open the envelope and pulled out the letter that was inside.

Dear Mr. Clifford,

We are sorry to inform you that your father has been killed. It was no accident, we're afraid. He was found on the street with four chest wounds caused by a knife and two bullet holes in his back.

We are doing our best to find out who did it, Mr. Clifford. We will call if we have found anything.

Sincerely,
Sydney Police Department
PS: feel free to stop by the station if you have any questions.

Michael let out a strangled sob, and Luke dropped everything and ran to his love.

"Michael, baby, what's wrong?" Luke asked, worry filling his eyes. Michael showed him the letter.

Luke gapsed.

"No. No no no no no. I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so, so sorry." Luke said, picking Michael up and carrying him to their bedroom.

Michael cuddled into Luke's side and cried. Luke rubbed his back and did everything he could to calm down his boyfriend.

"Did you want to go down to the station tomorrow morning, baby?" Luke asked. Michael nodded and hiccupped.

"Mmhmm." He hummed weakly. Luke nodded and kissed Michael's forehead.

"I'm sorry, baby. You've been through too much. You're so strong." Luke whispered.

"It's not y-your fau-lt, Lukey. I'm not strong, i-if I was strong, I w-wouldn't be crying right n-now." Michael said, taking breaks to sniffle.

"You don't cry because you're weak, you cry because you've been strong for too long." (Tumblr, I love you) Luke said. Michael looked up at him with red, big, puffy eyes.

"Y-You're the best, you kn-know that?" Michael whispered. Luke smiled and pecked Michael's lips.

"I've been told. Now, get some rest, baby boy. You need it."

Michael closed his eyes without hesitation, hoping this was all a dream.

But he knew it wasn't. His father was dead.

And Michael was going to get whoever did it, one way, or another.