Michael Clifford Imagines/Preferences

The Break-Up

You sat at the edge of your bed, Michael was walking in the door, and you were prepared for him. You could hear his steps coming closer and closer to the bedroom, and he stopped before the doorway. As he slowly opened the door, you could see that he wasn't smiling. The two of you hadn't spoken in three days, for some reason, this most recent fight wasn't going away.

He sat down next to you and sighed, "I'm sorry."

You turned to him and furrowed you brow, "Michael, I'm sorry isn't going to fix this."

"What? Why not?"

You scoffed, "That's why! Because you think saying you're sorry will always fix everything, and it can't."

Michael got up from his seat and opened the door. You stood up and you could feel tears in your eyes, "Don't you dare walk away, it's just going to make things worse!" He stopped, shut the door, and then turned back to you.

You wiped the tears from your eyes, "You come home drunk every night! I never get to see you when you're on tour because you don't want me coming along, but you don't mind not seeing me!"

Michael looked furious, "You think I don't mind being away from you? Of course I mind y/n! But you never want to come out drinking with us!"

"Because I don't fucking drink!"

"And that's my fault?"

You stared at him blankly. "Seriously? Because I don't drink, that just means I don't get to spend time with you?"

"You could always come out with us and NOT FUCKING DRINK."

"Oh because spending time with a bunch of people drunk off their asses is SO much fun, right!"

Michael's nose touched yours, and he screamed in your face, "I CAN DRINK AS MUCH AS I WANT, YOU ANNOYING BITCHY PRUDE."

Outraged at his statement, you slapped him across the face and watched as he stumbled backwards. He groaned in pain, when he stood up straight and took his hand away from his face you could see a bright red mark from your hand. Your own hand was red and stung from the force of your slap, you could only imagine the pain Michael was in. He had tears in his eyes, "You changed." Your voice was breaking, "Yeah, I changed when you cheated on me on tour." His eyes went wide and you knew he finally understood what this was all about. He rubbed his cheek and lowered his voice, "This isn't about me not being home is it?" You took a deep breath, "what do you think?"

Michael thought back to a few months ago when he was touring. He went to a club with Calum, they drank a bit too much, and he went home with some girl. But he had been lonely the entire tour since he didn't have you, so he kept sleeping with her. He thought he had managed to keep it out of the press, but there are fans everywhere, and they spread everything. He remembered when he called you one night and expected you to yell and get angry, but when nothing happened, he assumed you were fine and he was in the clear. In reality, you loved him too much to get angry, you convinced yourself that it didn't mean anything. When he got back and started going out again, it just brought the memory back, and you couldn't hold back this time.

Michael sighed, "Y/n, I am so sorry, I swear it was just the one time, Calum and I were really drunk when we met those girls and-"

You raised an eyebrow, "Calum? The pictures I saw were you and Luke and those girls, not Calum. How many times did you cheat!"

Michael stood there, mouth agape, "Y/n, they didn't mean anythi-"

You felt tears stinging your eyes and you choked, "Get out."

He gasped, "No, y/n, no, you don't mean that."

You held back tears and shouted, "GET OUT OF MY APARTMENT MICHAEL! TAKE YOUR CRAP AND LEAVE."

Thrown off by your yelling, Michael scrambled to pick up his things and stuff them in a bag. You held in your tears while he gathered everything. You walked him to the front door, and slammed the door as he left. You put your back to the door, and fell to the floor crying. Michael could hear your sobs through the door, and walked to his car. He drove back home, pulled into the driveway, and then looked at his phone, hoping to see a message from you. Instead he was greeted with the picture of you and him from the day before he left on tour, he had set it as his screensaver. He laid his head against the wheel, sobbed, and whimpered, "I fucked up so bad."

Months later, you stood in by the counter in a hazy bar, your friends were off in the corner, but you weren't about to go stand with them. You had already drank two beers before you went out, but now you had taken a few shots of tequila. You could feel a buzz now. You had grown more and more tolerant to alcohol over the past few months, you didn't drink for fun anymore, you drank to get drunk. Your friends didn't know the extent of your drinking, so they continued to invite you out. After sitting there for a couple minutes, you could really feel the alcohol in your system now. Over the next hour, your drank more and more. Your friends went over to you, to make sure you were okay, but you were stumbling around and slurring your words.

They were leading you out of the bar when you noticed a familiar face. You squinted your eyes a little so you could make out the face, and that's when you realized it was Michael. He noticed you too, so he made his way across the bar to say hello. As he walked up and tried to talk to you, but you stumbled backwards and tried to get away. From the way you were stumbling though, Michael thought you were falling and reached out to grab your hand. As he pulled you up, you struggled to get him to let go, but again, he thought you were stumbling.

"Let go of me!" you slurred.

Michael quickly loosened his grip, "Sorry! I thought you were falling."

You were about to walk away but Michael spoke up, "How are you?"

Something in you snapped, and you glared at him, "How am I? HOW AM I? SUDDENLY YOU FUCKING CARE? YOU DIDN'T SEEM TO CARE SEVEN MONTHS AGO WHEN YOU CHEATED ON ME."

Your friends tried to calm you down but you pushed them off of you and continued to slur out your anger, "NO, NO DON'T TRY TO STOP ME. I WAITED SEVEN MONTHS TO SAY THIS. YOU MICHAEL - YOU HURT ME, YOU LEFT ME WAITING FOR SIX MONTHS WHILE YOU WERE GONE, AND WHEN YOU GOT BACK, YOU COULDN'T EVEN TELL ME THE TRUTH. YOU USED ME, YOU TOLD ME YOU LOVED ME AND IT WAS A LIE."

He tried to interrupt you, "I was lying, I-"

You waved your hands in front of him, "HI I'M TALKING, YOU HAD YOU CHANCE TO TALK SEVEN MONTHS AGO, SO SHUT UP" the tears started rolling down your cheeks and you fell to the floor, "FUCK YOU MICHAEL, FUCK YOU AND YOUR LIES AND ALL YOUR CRAP."

Your friends helped you get up and started to drag you out of the bar. Michael walked with them and watched as you left, "I'm sorry y/n." Your voice broke and your slurred out a quiet, "fuck you." After one of your friends had taken you home, Michael pulled another friend of yours to the side. He spoke softly, "Will I ever get another chance with y/n?" She glanced at the phone in his hand, you were still his screensaver, "I don't know Michael, I really don't."