Permanent Vacation ~ MGC

Part 23

Y/N's POV

Michael was right, it was my 20th birthday next week, and I'd attempted to forget all about it. Whilst being away with the boys, I hadn't really thought about turning 20, but I didn't want to make a huge deal of it since we'd just gotten back from England (and France). I didn't really like Birthdays to be honest.
We were on the main road to a supermarket just outside of town; when we'd arrived at the grocery store that was only ten minutes from the house, it had closed for renovation, and this supermarket was te next nearest place to go to. We were stuck in a colossal line of traffic, and I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel impatiently, whilst Michael looked for CDs in the compartment in between our seats.
Eventually, he pulled out an All Time Low album, and opened the case to pull out the disc inside of it; it turned out it wasn't there, and he snapped the case shut, before returning his gentle gaze to my hands.
"You're quite musical, for a not-musical person." Michael said, still glancing at my fingers drumming lightly on the wheel, as we inched forward down the line of traffic. No one really knew this - apart from Ash - but I knew how to play guitar reasonably well, and was slowly learning drums. I never really played around anyone else apart from Ash, who taught me what I knew, which is why everyone found my habit of drumming on random objects so unusual.
"I'm sort of musical, but not as much as you guys. I can play a thing or two, but I'm not that good." I said, my expression emotionless as I clicked on my left indicator to leave the main road at the next exit.
"Really?!" Michael excitedly shouted, and I rubbed my ear because he spoke so loudly, "Wow, I never knew such an impatient person could be musical." He said, smirking at his attempt to annoy me, which succeeded. I gently pushed him, smiling, before concentrating back on leaving the irritating business of the highway.
Michael was right, I was impatient, which was ironic considering we had just been in a huge line of traffic, and were now going to an expectantly busy supermarket.
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When we eventually parked, it was still a 10 minute walk to the supermarket, and since it was 4.30pm, I wanted to get back as soon as possible so we could eat; both Michael and I were beyond hungry.
We walked down the path, past a multitude of different shops, and suprisingly, Michael was never stopped once for a picture. I could see him glancing at my hands every so often, and I longed to have him hold them in his own. Every few minutes, I would try to reach out to his hand, but was too nervous since we were out in public, and the only people that knew about us were the boys, and my Mum.
Around five minutes into the walk, Michael grabbed my hand suddenly, making my cheeks feel warm. He smiled at me, and our eyes met for a second, before he led me to the window of a shop, which had an abundence of different guitars on display.
"Do you want to go inside?" He said, and I lent my head on his shoulder, since no one was around this shop, and smiled. As much as I wanted to go inside, I wanted to make dinner early, and my stomach was practically talking to me.
"Hmmm - as much as I want to, we need to mak-"
Before the words could escape my mouth, Michael dragged me into the shop, and wheeled me around to the area where all of the guitars were. I laughed, and looked around at them all, as Michael stood behind me, putting his head on my shoulder, and his arms around me. I ran my hands gently over the strings of one accoustic in particular, admiring its simple yet beautiful wooden appearence.
"Play it." Michael said simply, still resting his head where it was, but burrying it further into my shoulder.
"I can't." I said, smirking at the fact that I couldn't move from the prison he'd created with his arms. I tried to wriggle away, and he got the message, laughing before moving around me and picking the guitar from the stand. I looked at him nervously, noticing that there were now three people in the shop apart from the one employee; 2 girls, around 15, and a boy who looked slightly younger than us.
"Please?" He said, holding the guitar out to me, and pulling an exaggerated pout like a disappointed 5 year old. I shuffled my feet, before giving in and gently taking the instrument from his hand, sitting on a stool a few meters away. As I sat down, I was lifted up again, as Michael took a seat on the stool, and placed me gently on his knee, his head on my shoulder.
"What should I play?" I said, twisting my head around as much as possible, with the accoustic on my knee.
"Anything." He said, smiling, and I started to play the first few parts of 'Missing You' by All Time low. I smiled when I'd thought finished the part I knew, but Michael's hands were placed on my own, and he guided my fingers accross the frets and strings as he helped me with the next part. There was no other noise in the music store, apart from the music ringing out from the guitar. Our hands felt sort of like one pair, as they glided accross the strings together, our hands laced, as we finished the song, together.

(A/N: sorry for the fillers, I sort of like this chapter though. Hope its good, and please comment what you think of it!! (There'll be more interesting stuff soon I promise):))