"I'm ready for this." Michael told the tall blonde. The blue eyed boy looked down at him and nodded.
"If you need me, I'll be out here." Luke told him, and he nodded.
"Mr. Clifford." A nurse named Macy called, and Luke let go of Michael's hand.
Michael followed the nurse through the silent halls, the only sound was the click of their shoes against the white tile. Macy opened the door and gave him a small smile.
"I'll be out here when you come out." She told him, and Michael nodded. He walked into the simple room, much like the others. It was plain white, the only thing occupying it was a plastic table and two chairs set across from one another. Michael took his seat, drumming his fingers along the old plastic. He traced his fingers along the cuts in the table, wondering what had happened in this room before.
A door opened with a click, and Michael looked up to have his eyes met with green ones just like his.
"Michael?" The man whispered, and he nodded before standing up.
"Hi Dad." Michael said, and his father took a few steps closer to him.
Michael would have never recognized him. His dirty blonde hair fell in messy straggles over his face. He was thinner than Michael remembered, his once strong arms dulled. Bags fell under his green eyes that Michael didn't recognize. Michael's father used to have a spark in his eyes of curiosity. It was gone.
The man opened his arms and Michael ran to him, feeling like he was five all over again.
"I missed you so much." Michael croaked, tears falling down his pale cheeks. His dad pulled him closer, kissing his son's forehead.
"You're so grown up." He whispered, his voice cracking as tears brimmed his eyes. He rested his chin on his sobbing sons head, rubbing his back gently.
"I like your hair." The older man chuckled quietly, and Michael looked up at him.
"Remember in kindergarten when I asked what your favorite color was, and you said red?" Michael asked, and he nodded.
"It still is." He beamed, looking at his son.
"Your mother wouldn't like that piercing, though." He sighed, and Michael rolled his eyes.
"I don't give a crap what she would think. I just want to spend time with you." Michael said a bit loudly, and Daryl Clifford nodded.
"I think I've forgotten how to be a father to you, Mikey G." Daryl ran a hand through his son's hair, giving him a sad smile.
"Then let me help you remember." Michael whispered, hugging his dad again.
A/n
Happy thanksgiving
It's my fav day bc I can overeat and not be judged lmao
~Kay
