o btw I never reread my chapters I write bc I feel weird doing it so don't mind the grammar mistakes or spelling errors in my chapter oK
also I haven't even read haven I just write and post lmao so hopefully this all makes since
"I FEEL LIKE DANCING TONIGHT. I'M GUNNA PARTY LIKE ITS MY CIVIL RIGHT,"
"Grace?"
"IT DOESN'T MATTER WHERE, I DON'T CARE IF PEOPLE STARE."
"Grace, hello?!"
"BECAUSE I FEEL LIKE DANCING TONIGHT!"
"GRACE!"
"Shit," I stumble over myself, turning around quickly and pausing the music blasting from my speaker.
I see Calum standing there leaning against my door frame, a smirk on his face. I mean, he did just watch me dance to all time low in my underwear.
"Uh," I say awkwardly, much aware of my lack of pants, "Can I help you?"
"Michael just stopped by again," he continues to smirk, "I told him you were out. And then when he asked who was dancing and singing up here I had to tell him it was the way Kitten was copping."
I pull a face, before sending him a cheesy smile, "Thank you."
"I'm bringing Kitten out to lunch to get her out of the house. Do you wanna come?"
"No it's okay," I shake my head, "I have to upload some pictures from the party I worked at last night."
He nods before turning around and walking out the door.
He shouts over his shoulder as he walks back to Cat's room, "Cute butt, by the way."
I roll my eyes before closing my door, a small smile on my face. Idiot.
*
After I finished editing and uploading all the pictures from the Sweet 16 I worked at last night, I sigh heavily, rubbing my eyes.
I hear a knock on the door downstairs, and I sigh heavily, getting up from my desk and trudging downstairs.
When I open it, there stands Michael. Shit, why the hell didn't I look first?
I open my mouth to say something as he stands there, his hands tucked deeply in the pockets of his skinny jeans, but nothing comes out.
I shake my head, going to close the door before his foot stops me from doing so at the last second.
I stand there for a second, looking at his black converse wedged between the door and the door frame.
His hand grabs onto the door as he slowly pushes it open, revealing himself to me once again.
"You shouldn't be here," I say quietly, "You should just go home."
"Grace," he says just as quietly, "We aren't doing this."
"Doing what?" I ask. His body is still in between the door and the frame.
"I'm not letting this go. I'm not letting you go," he says, "Believe me, I'm holding on for dear life."
I don't answer again, which makes him step inside the apartment, closing the door behind him, "If there was a way to rewind time so that I didn't make that stupid choice, I would in a heartbeat, Grace."
"But there's no way that we can rewind," I sigh, "Everything that happened, happened. I don't know what else you want me to do."
"I want you to live your life, Grace," he says, his voice filled with urgency, "How do you want to spend your one life? Regretting? Questioning? Hating yourself for not doing what you thought would make you happiest?" He questions me, "You have to be brave, and do what makes you feels good. Take risks. Make yourself happy with the decisions you made."
"And that decision being being with you?" I question, raising an eyebrow.
He shakes his head, "I didn't say that," he says, "I said do what makes you feel good, what that is is up to you."
I stay quiet once again, looking down at my bare feet.
"But I'm doing what makes me feel good," he continues gently, "And that's being around you, baby."
I feel my whole body stop functioning in the millisecond. Like the world just stopped rotating and the blood stopped flowing through my veins. I felt as if time had stopped all together, and I was frozen in place.
All because of a stupid pet name.
I feel him getting closer to me, but I don't dare look up from my feet.
I see his shadow become more and more evident, his shoes finally coming into my view on the wood paneled floor.
Then, I feel his touch. His hand gently grazing my arm, making chills and shocks run up my body. I feel like I did the first time I was ever this close to him. It's a feeling I never thought I'd feel again.
Next, his other hand raises up and touches my chin. The contact making my head go up, finally meeting his pale green eyes.
God, do I want to kiss him. I would be lying to myself if I said I didn't. Of course I did. I am still in love with this loser, as much as I don't want to be, I am. I know, he knows it, hell I'm sure the entire state of Washington knows it.
His head dips down, and as much as I love him and as much as I want nothing more than his lips gracing mine, I can't.
"Michael," I say quietly, his name falling off my lips even made them tingle, "You know that I can't."
"I know," he says, not pulling away from me at all, "I didn't come here to try and kiss you. I just needed to see you. I needed you to know that I'm here, and that I'm here for you."
Fucking hell.
Why does he make me feel like this?
"Luke deserves more," I shake my head, "We broke up a week and a half ago, and here I am, wanting nothing more than to kiss you."
His cheeks flame, making mine do the same. It's a beautiful sight to see Michael blush.
"I love you," he says, "And you don't have to say it back, I just really want to be able to say it to you as many times as I can."
He brings my into his arms, his lips pressing against my forehead. I close my eyes, savoring the feeling of his lips on my skin.
I find myself wrapping my arms around his torso as he brings me in for a hug, his arms nearly crushing my bones.
I'm such a horrible person.
I listened to jbh while writing this can you tell
