invisible ; malum [completed]

19

a/n: i need to write more of this, so this is the last update for a bit (like three or four days), so i hope you enjoy this cute update :))

songs i listened to while writing:

for baltimore (acoustic) - all time low
kiss me again (feat. alex gaskarth) - we are the in crowd

» calum

i love kissing michael clifford.

the way his cherry lips pressed against mine, it sends shivers down my spine.

he pissed me the fuck off sometimes, but i couldn't deny my feelings for him, and me sucking him off while in that drunken state kind of proved that.

i still haven't talked to him sober.

it's been a month.

i basically told him to stay out of my life, and i need to stay true to that.

but it is getting harder as the days passed on. it seemed like everything i encountered reminded me of him.

i pick up a piece of crumpled paper with ink bleeding through it.

i miss his touch so much. i love the feeling it gave me, the spark shooting through my body like heroin and the tightening in my chest, it felt like fire.

i love how i could feel so effortless around him. how he noticed me.

i love how i felt i was torn between being an angel and devil when i am around him; like i felt so pure and simple around him, like a celestial being. but then again, i felt devilish, like we could take on the world with feverish antics. i love how everything was so wrong with him, but it was all so right.

i love how he could make me smile just with his stupid, stupid words. the words falling effortlessly out of his mouth, i could just listen to him talk all day. i don't care what he was rambling on about, it could be the difference between two breeds of cats, and i would still stare at him in awe as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

he is the most fascinating thing in the world.

i love his smile and the way he blushed easily but always tried to hide it.

i love him.

i love michael clifford.

fuck.

-

i throw rocks at his window.

or more like lightly toss.

"i feel like this happens too often," i mumble as i gather pebbles to lightly toss.

i keep throwing them, but eventually i crumple to the ground and sigh defeatedly.

"it's too late for us," i say to the sky.

"what's too late?"

i scramble off of the dirty ground and wipe the dirt off of my knees.

"um, hey, mikey."

"hey, cal."

we stand there, looking at each other with dumb smiles on our faces.

"do you wanna, uh, come down or something?" i finally yell.

he nods slowly and closes his window.

i realize i still have the paper, clenched between my fingers.

i stuff it in the front pocket of my jeans that i have yet to change out of for the day just as michael treads out of his house.

"you know my mom isn't home, right? we could just go in my room."