Twitter - Michael Clifford (completed)

2.9

My phone started ringing in my hands with a FaceTime call from Michael and I froze, afraid to answer him, afraid for him to see me in my frazzled state and afraid of what he wanted.

Don't get me wrong, it wasn't that I was scared of him seeing me and judging me because one; Michael wasn't like that and two; I'd seen him over Christmas.

Yeah you heard me, I saw Michael over Christmas.

Need an explanation? Ok.

When Michael had told and promised me a little over a month ago that he understood, he would be there and he would fix me. He really fucking meant it.

Everyday since that wholesome promise, he's messaged me quotes of love, life and positive quotes in general each and every morning, he's called every night, despite whatever country time zone he's living on, he's written and text me whenever he's got the given chance.

He's really fucking been here.

On with the story; on Christmas morning my parents decided that it was just another day for us all and so it went like this; argument, fight and a door slamming twice as one of them leaves for the local pub and the other god knows where because to be honest, I couldn't of cared less in that moment.

So I spent Christmas morning with Ben and Jerrys, re runs of True Blood, in my bed covers on the sofa. Surprisingly enough, had iTunes gift cards from mum -I spent a small amount of time on iTunes buying a few newly released albums- and fuck all from my sad excuse of a father, so it's safe to say I was really disappointed and crushed, as the sad reality hits me that yet again another year passes and i was brought no cheerful joy at Christmas.

Michael had sent me a good morning text in the early hours of the morning while he was on a plane to who knew where and one later that morning wishing me a merry Christmas, obviously unaware of how miserable my morning was actually going.

Hey, it's Christmas? Just because mine was shit, doesn't mean his was and fuck was I about to ruin his day with my complaining.

So as you can imagine, when five in the evening rolled around and I was still sat on the couch, in a baggy LedZepp shirt, eating a large Hawaiian pizza to myself feeling a pity party for myself fast approaching when the doorbell rung and shit me up.

I mean come on? Who the fuck could it be? We rarely have visitors and I was definitely not expecting anyone?

But when I'd swung the door open I received the best present I could of asked for.

Michael Clifford, in sweatpants and a lame Christmas jumper, grinning ear to ear.

I smiled fondly at the memory from last week as I replayed the evening out, crystal clear in my mind.

We'd watched a bunch of cheesy old Christmas movies, had nerf gun wars, danced to loud cheesy Christmas music, baked cookies and cupcakes, built a fort and then had a food fight with the aforementioned cupcakes.

It was honestly, the best Christmas ever and the happiest I'd been in a while. Even after telling Michael everything about my child hood, the neglect and bullshit I put up with daily and the creeping depression that lingers.

Well, after telling him everything that he didn't already know.

But still.

My phone vibrated again pulling me out of my thoughts and I saw Michael FaceTiming me again, I hesitated again, should I answer? This call was unscheduled and random after all, he never calls out of the blue.

I bit my lip with anticipation before accepting his call, a smile instantly appearing once I saw the newly dyed blond haired beauty.

"Evie, I'm only gonna ask you once ok?" Michael smiled sadly.

"Well hello to you too sunshine, how are you on this fine day?" I chuckled, desperately trying to hide my flustered state.

"Evie.." He sighed, an underlying warning laced in his tone, "Please don't feign happiness, you don't have to with me ok?"

I hung my head in shame, embarrassed at how easily he'd seen through my facade, "I'm sorry, I just didn't want to rain on your parade I guess,"

"Don't be sorry babe, it's fine, it's okay to be sad sometimes remember?" He was biting his lip glancing down at something deep in thought, clearly debating how to ask what he was going to, "Evie, can you be honest with me?"

I frowned worried, was this about when I asked him if he was doing this friendship-fixing me thing out of pity or was this something else? "Yeah, of course I can,"

"What were you cleaning up?"

Fuck.