Mirrors | Malum

36

Calum

He was sitting on a black armchair, his coruscating, fiery coiffure falling in front of his eyes as the wind clouted his skin. His pigmentation was paler than usual under the caliginous, faint sunlight peering through the seems of the curtains. He had his lips in a symmetrical, vanilla line; looking as if he hadn't slept or eaten in days.

"Are you alright?" I asked him quietly, unsure of myself. This conversation didn't feel natural to me; only a propaganda of neurosis that was doomed to come true at one point.

"Yeah, fine, come have a seat," Michael retorted, his voice hushed more than mine was, which again, was unusual. I was hesitant, but he was my boyfriend after all and I had to trust him. It was quite difficult to ignore the stacks of papers he held in between his small, stubby fingers.

"What are you holding?"

"Your parents wanted me to deliver the news for you, because they had to handle your sister throwing a conniption."

"What news?" I gulped nervously, feeling every bone in my body slowly start to crack along with my mind.

"You're going to be in the mental hospital for a year, Calum. And there wasn't anything I could do to stop it."

I woke up caterwauling; grasping onto my thin mattress to reassure myself that it was only a dream. I wasn't alone - Michael was sitting in the corner of my room with wide eyes and fear traced everywhere on his facial structure. I wanted to apologize for undoubtedly scaring him, but I was still petrified myself.

"Are you alright, angel?"

"I - I, you promised," I whimpered, my breath shaking with every movement I'd take and every word that would coherently fall out of my mouth.

"What?" Michael questioned, dumbfounded, as if he didn't comprehend before.

"Where are the papers?"

I indignantly stood up, feeling remorseful of myself for letting this happen, but they kept telling me it was his fault. He was the one who convinced them to sign the papers and now I have to go to a mental hospital for a year - if not longer.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Michael retorted, nervously. If he was nervous, then it was obvious he was hiding something.

"I know you have them."

I began furiously searching around my room for them, trying to scratch the surface of where they could be so I could rip them apart. So I could feel myself breathing again as though breathing were the only thing I truly wanted to do at the moment.

"Calum, calm down."

"No," I found myself shouting, and I watched as Michael arched himself away, further into the corner he was already sitting in. He didn't want to get hurt, and I didn't want to hurt him but I needed to feel a source of relief. Which is why I punched his arm as hard as possible, three times - until it wasn't enough. Until what made it enough was a chalky wall that turned my fists a mixture of black and red.

I watched as he quickly walked towards me, all fear written on him washed away with confidence and with tear eyes, he held my damaged hand in his and quivered slightly.

"Why are you hurting yourself, beautiful?"

"You promised," I stated, slowly easing my way into his chest, slowly letting the tears dribble down my face as I allowed him to see every wall I've ever built up - every storm of anger I've ever let out, every progression of fear I always hid - everything, "you promised you wouldn't let them take me away."

Michael furrowed his eyebrows, but then lowered them due to realizing that I had a nightmare that I thought was reality at first because it seemed so realistic.

"You're still here, you're with me - in my arms and I'm holding you. They haven't taken you away from me because I promised you I won't let them."

"And what if you have to break that promise?" I mumbled, fearfully of course. I didn't want to lose the boy I've grown attached to. I can't lose my breath - because he's become all of it. The only reason I actually want to live. It's him. Entirely, a hundred percent, Michael Clifford.

"While some promises are meant to be broken, this one isn't. I need you in my life, and if they even try to take my precious angel away, they're going to have to deal with me first."

I chuckled slightly, despite having tears staining my cheeks with every breath I'd fail to take. With every miniature panic attack I'd have - with every moment of sadness and anger I'd need to release.

"I don't think you can beat anybody up, Michael."

"I may not look tough, but I'm willing to do anything for you. And if that's sitting down at a table with your parents for over ten hours to convince them to let you heal on your own, then that's exactly what I'll do."

"But why?"

"Because you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. And to give up this easily would be ridiculous after I spent months fighting for you."

I smiled, finally able to breathe again - to collapse onto my mattress with a realistic smile on my face, and I'd gaze up at him while he looks down at me, barely blinking. And I'd ask him why he doesn't blink as often as an average human being, and he'd tell me it's because he doesn't want to miss a single moment of witnessing beauty. I'm his beauty - his overall definition that you could find in a dictionary if you'd try hard enough. I expand past the definition - past the roots in the garden, past the smell after it rains - past the sunrises and sunsets, past the morning cups of coffees, past seeing your favorite band playing live - past every beautiful moment there is to witness, because in his eyes, there's nothing he'd rather do with his life than look at me.

And that makes me feel something. It makes me feel alive and wanted - and if he never came in my life, I'd still be incredibly unsure of myself.

"Thank you for keeping your promise, Michael," I said while leaning towards where he was sitting on my bed, close enough to feel his own breath fanning against my skin, close enough to see his pupils dilating, close enough to hear his rapid heartbeat, close enough to see the goosebumps peering onto his arms, close enough to see the color of his plump pink lips, close enough to kiss him, as if it was the first time when we stood under those luminous street lights, as if it was the first time he reminded me that there is something to live for.

Michael smiled into the kiss, and I loved feeling it. A kiss isn't something you should take advantage of; its something you should savor. Which is why I don't kiss him every second of the day. I cherish our moments - because they're beautiful, they're beautiful just like him.

And I want this, whatever it is, forever.

-

A/N: This was supposed to be a Michael chapter but this chapter was very needed, despite it being a filler.

Thoughts?

Please don't forget to leave a vote and a comment. I appreciate all of my readers.😍😍😍 (there may even be a double update if I'm feeling up to it!!)