Broken Home

XIX

Michael

We took him to the hospital. At first, Ashton started arguing about how he didn't want to and how it would be bad and he even tried to run away. But every single time, Connor calmed him down. I'm surprised he even made it in the lobby.

He was put in a room, and we couldn't see him. Connor threw a fit, and stayed in front of the door closely listening to what was happening inside.

I feel like Connor cares about him more than I care about him.

And that's a lot.

"I hope he's okay. I-"

"Do you like him?" I asked, cutting her off.

"WHAT?" She stared back at me with a face filled with confusion and disgust.

"Sorry, I-I didn't mean to come out of the blue like that." I apologized.

"Uh, its fine." She started blushing.

"So, do you?" I asked.

"Not like that. I just met him." 

"No, you've known him for a while now. What is it, two weeks? And, he stayed at your ho-"

"That's only because he had nowhere else to go." She cut me off, her face turning red.

"So, do you?" I could feel the smirk growing on my face.

"Why do you care? And n-no, I don't." She stuttered.

"Just asking. You really seem to care about him, and I just wanted to know."

"Hmmf." She grunted, crossing her arms on her chest.

She was very small, and her hair reached her waist.

"Is that your real hair?" I asked.

"So many questions!" She exclaimed. 

"Sorry."

"Yes, it is."

"Woah, its so long." 

"Yeah. I haven't cut it since I was 15."

"How old are you?"

"19."

"You're so small! Oh, no offence."

"I'm five-two."

"Woah."

She giggled.

"And you're very tall, mister." She smiled up at me.

My heart skipped a beat.

Oh no.