creole ➸ [michael au]

December 1, 2015.

Comatose.

After another run to Tino's and running into Michael for the sixth time that morning, I was alone in my dorm room, patiently waiting for someone to come entertain me.

My phone rung repeatedly and I didn't even bother to read them; They were mostly from the never ending group chat between Calum, Rebecca, and their respected fuck-toys.

I sat in the living room, our dorm room was a comfortable size, but living with Wendy, who was almost as extravagant as her flaring hair, called for bigger space. Her closet is almost filled beyond capacity because of how much she worries about how she looks.

I was worried, wondering—and stressing— about how long she would take to come home was a habit that I always wanted to stop. My phone rung again, and I happened to check it.

| fuckboy — Would you like me to come over? |

I rolled my eyes, throwing my phone to my side before turning and facing bulletin pinned on my wall. I checked the plans I had for that Tuesday afternoon.

Absolutely nothing.

Sometimes I just have to sit back and wonder if this is what I left home for; an empty dorm room with no connections with a social life until final's.

Wendy usually goes out with Calum or her group of southern outcasts that hung around the chemistry room because they would use the space to experiment with a numerous amount of drugs. Sometimes she would invite me; In fact, she used to ask me every time she was planning on leaving, but after the countless times that I declined, she eventually caught on that I had better things to do than smoke doobies or whatever people refer to them as.

"Get the fuck in here, Clifford," I heard Wendy growl as her key fiddled in the lock. My head shot, as I moved away from the bulletin board and sat down on one of the high chairs by the kitchen. I watched as Wendy pushed past Michael, who was basically trying to keep his balance with the amount of shopping bags that were weighing him down. "Hey, baby," Wendy smiled widely at me, as she stuck a finger directly into the kitchen and narrowed her glare at Michael.

"I had Michelangelo here help me with the groceries." She continued to smile at me, mainly because she was bossing Michael around.

"It's just Michael." Michael groaned, throwing the brown plastic bags on our counter before leaning against them. "I know, but your green eyes give off a Greek vibe. It only makes sense for your name to match, Angelo."

I stood up from my seat, "How did you even get him to obey?" I asked once I was in front of Michael. My hand rested on his chin, as I tried to draw his face to mine. I wasn't surprised, from the droopy stare on his face or the bloodshot eyes that almost matched Wendy's inhuman nail color, that he was obviously a bit high.

I rolled my eyes at him, which was something I did a lot, but I turned my attention back to Wendy. "What'd you buy?"

"I've bought a the typical: eggs, bread, noodles. I also got a few frozen pizzas, noting that we always buy the pepperoni dish, I wanted to try the Meats, you know, be spontaneous and all.." Of course, Wendy was blabbering about pointless things because that was what she was good at. She come turn an one question answer into a lecture, yet right now, she was just describing her Publix venture. "Oh, and I bought a pregnancy test."

"What?" I asked, my voice almost ranging four octaves higher than before. She shrugged me off, brushing her hair off the tips are n her shoulder. "Why a pregnancy test?"

"I don't know," She mumbled, "I've had the worst flu for over a week, and I get super drowsy when Stephan calls me, like I'm some feminist that feels like she's worth more than sex. I've been feeling all one with my pelvic area lately, like I'm actually connecting with my uterus. I feel like I can rule the world with my vagina."

"Are you intoxicated right now?"

"No, I'm just saying." She shrugged once again, a plain stare flickered between Michael and I. "First time moms are usually super confident and they feel like superheroes because they're carrying a human in there."

"You sound like a ninny." Michael declared, then just smirked once I shot him a glare. "Just take the test, you're not a philosopher."

"Pass me the box then." She barked at him, which he almost kindly retrieve it for her, but as she reached her hand out to take it, he had let the box fall to the ground.

She flicked him off before going to the bathroom with one hand holding the tests, and her teeth nibbling on the nails of the other.

After two minutes of silence,  I spoke up, "Do you think she could be pregnant?"

"I don't know," Michael plainly said, then a small smile rested on his lips, "It'll be cool to have a little one running around here, though."

I shot him a look, which made him become defensive, "What? You don't think so?"

"No, she's like twenty-two. I would hate to have something weighing me down like that when I'm trying to live my twenties to the fullest."

"I don't get it," He just shook his head, his eyes didn't leave the floor, "Kids are pretty cool."

"That's because you are a kid, Michael." I joked, "What's so good about them?"

"Maybe it's because my parents sucked ass, but I feel like, even if I would be horrible parent, I would probably love the kid more than anything." Michael shrugged, "Plus, mini Cliffos would be pretty bad ass."

I just smiled at him, seeing the little kid in front of me gush over how having children would be cool. He didn't seem as intimidating when he's passionate about something, "You're the first boy to actually want to have kids at this age."

"I'm twenty-four." He pouted, "You're probably the first girl to not want the happy fairytale life."

"I'm twenty-one years old," I mocked him, "I've got time."

He just hummed in response; a single strand of hair laid in the middle of his forehead as he let his head fall loosely. "Do you think it'll be Calum's baby?"

Now it was my turn to shrug. "Maybe, but Calum's a pretty cautious guy."

"Are you speaking from experience?"

"Are you actually sober enough to know the answer?"

• — • —

(Author's note)
That ending doesn't even make sense, why?
Anyways, the chapters are in a sequence (mostly based by pov) and the dates just flow with the story.

I know you're going to do well on your finals, or that drivers test, or that job examination, or whatever you're nervous about. Ily