Michael was a mess.
His hair was faded any bright color it had before, leaving a light purple. It stuck up in strange places and seemed to fall constantly over his face, causing him to run his fingers through the messy tangled and making them worse.
At least he was in fresh clothes and showered, thanks to Luke's nagging. Michael hadn't been out of the Hood's house in days, his temporary home until his birthday.
He had a loose t-shirt on, one he'd realized Luke left over his house a long time ago. Sweatpants hung off his thin hips, barely staying up over his pale waist. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy, resembling the sleepless nights of agony spent alone.
Luke held him in his arms, and rubbed the boy's back. He let him cry.
Luke was the last thing Michael had left. Mrs. Hood gave everything she had to Michael, trying to make him feel loved and at home. But this wasn't his house, it's Calum's.
Was Calum's.
Michael couldn't sleep, eat, he barely managed to breathe. Luke was the only thing getting him through the days, life ticking away to the sound of wasted hours.
The deaf boy tried to bring him all the happiness possible. Luke would come over with pizza and video games, movies and fuzzy blankets, but nothing cheered Michael up.
Nothing could distract him from the thought that his best friend was dead.
The blonde would just hold him for hours, listening to the faint heartbeat of the smaller boy. Luke was sad, of course, but as long as he felt Michael's heartbeat he knew he would be fine.
Ashton dropped by every now and then, checking on Michael and Mrs. Hood. He looked fine and talked normally, but small differences were perceptible.
The roughness of his voice, the bags under his eyes. The gaining of weight, not major, just a slight tummy. The fake smile with the glassy, broken eyes.
Ashton used to have a light in his eyes, but now they seemed faded and worn.
Michael glanced up at Luke, and made a swift motion with his hands. The first time he would sign to Luke, the first time they didn't have to type something to talk. And that was the way Michael preferred to tell him, even if it was in another language.
I love you.
a/n
hey guys long time no update I'm sorry I loVE YOU ALL SO MUCH but the good news is I've been very happy lately and I'm excited for more updates and I hope you are too
~kaylee
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shooting stars//muke
Fiksi Penggemar"When I was little, I thought airplanes were shooting stars. And every night, I wished for a voice." •/•/•/•/• Michael Clifford says nothing, and Luke Hemmings manages a few words. But Michael lives in a world of noise while Luke lives in a world of...
