Permanent Vacation ~ MGC

Part 29

Y/N's POV

"M-michael?" I mumbled, and the sight of him instantly triggered a tear to fall from my eyes. He looked distraught; his eyes were red, and puffy, his hair was more messy and faded than before, and he looked exhausted - and drunk. I didn't know how, but I felt sorry for him; he looked just as uspet as I felt.
"Hi." He said, followed by a hiccup and a drunken smile. Michael pushed past me, stumbling into the living room as I closed the door. When I turned around, his face was inches from my own; I looked at his red eyes, then to his lips, and for a moment I felt like kissing him again, forgetting what he'd done to me.
He tried to hug me, but in his drunken state, his arms fell loosely to his side when I pushed him away, and he stumbled slowly onto the sofa.
"Y/N." He said, and I walked round to the armchair close to the sofa, collapsing on to it and hugging my knees.
"W-why are you here?" I sobbed, staring at the wall as I had when I told Luke about Michael. I didn't understand; since Luke said he was going to find Michael, I hadn't spoken to anyone but Mum, Summer, and Ash. If no one wanted to help me fix this mess, or wanted to explain, then why was Michael lying on my sofa, sipping from the bottle I'd put on the coffee table as I watched Mean Girls.
He sat up, wandering over to where I was, barely missing tripping over the coffee table before he sat on my knees.
"Because..." he began, burying his head in my shoulder; tears began to fall faster now, as I remembered cuddling with him like this in England and France, "I l-love you."
I escaped from under Michael, moving to the kitchen to prepare him a glass of water so his head wouldn't hurt so bad. I wiped tears from my cheeks with the edge of his shirt, whilst grabbing a glass from the cabinet.
"Why d-don't you love me Y/N?" He repeated, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind, as I placed the glass on the counter by the sink. I moved out of his arms, before wiping more tears from my face, and facing him, despite the distance I had now put between us.
"Why did you- why did you cheat on me?" I managed to speak, again, wiping tears from my aching face.
"I-I didn't. I didn't ch-cheat on you." He said, stepping towards me, but I stepped back. Michael's face was now as tear stained as mine, and his drunken red eyes were now even sadder than before. He tried to fill the glass from the counter, but dropped it in the sink, and it shattered into thousands of pieces. Why was he trying to make excuses for cheating on me? I saw him.
"Michael I saw you, you were with someone else at that music store." He looked at me, face lost in sadness, and tears fell from his eyes even more.
"W-what?" He said, moving towards me and wrapping his arms around my waist loosely; he smelled like alcohol and faded cologne.
I didn't hug back, but I didn't move. I wanted to believe he hadn't been with that girl, but it was difficult; this had happened before, and it was happening again. "No." He said, burying his head in my shoulder. "No no no." He said repeatedly, and I felt his tears dripping down my back.
"Michael, if you didn't cheat then you was she?" I asked, suprisingly calm, and Michael pulled away, fiddling with a loose thread on the sleeve of his jacket.
"W-who?" He said, looking behind me, and wandering to the fridge. As he opened the door, I walked towards him and pulled his hand out of the way, closing the door and leading him back to near the sink.
"That g-girl." I sobbed, calming myself down slightly.
"Ooohhhhh." He said, smirking; why was this so funny? I began to cry again at his ignorance towards my feelings; he seemed happy that I was crying.
"Don't t-tell Y/N," he began, putting his finger over his lips before speaking again, "That was Mayaaaa." He smiled, his eyes wandering around the room again. "She's my cousin. I took her to the store to get Y/N a present but ssshhh you can't tell her. It's a surpriiissee."
"W-what?" I said, as Michael walked upstairs towards my room. Guilt washed over me as I realised I was wrong; I had locked everyone out - the ones I love - and the cause of my feelings was a huge misunderstanding. I frowned at my idiocy, a tear slipping down my face, before I actually processed what had just happened. Michael hadn't cheated; I had told my family, his friends, what I thought he had done. When he sobered up, and he realised what I had done, he would be even more distraught than he was already.
I looked up, looking around the the hall outside of my room, where Michael was nowhere to be seen.
"Michael." I called, but he didn't answer. "Michael?" I shouted again, and I heard the sound of falling objects from the bathroom. I opened the door, and Michael was crouched in front of the toilet, bottles of shampoo and various other bathroom items littered around him, as he puked into the toilet. "Damn it." I said, crouching behind him and rubbing his back. He turned to me slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, before flushing the toilet and attempting to stand up.
Michael slowly did so, steadying himself with his hand on the wall, before looking at me directly in the eyes. He was crying again, looking slightly more sober than before, but his hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat.
"I'm so s-sorry, Y/N." He said, moving his hand from the wall, and wandering to the sink to wash his hands. He grabbed his toothbrush (he'd left it here before he left) and brushed his teeth sleepily and still slightly drunkedly. When he was done, I hugged him tightly, and he buried his head in the crook of my neck.
"I didn't let you explain, I'm sorry," I began, running my hands through his faded red hair, "I really thought-"
"Shh," he said, and I could feel his breath on my neck, "I would never, n-never do that to you." He leaned away from me, then pulling me close to him, so our foreheads were touching; a single tear fell from my eye.
"Are you feeling okay now?" I asked, our foreheads still touching, "You need some asp-"
"I'm fine." He said, moving a strand of hair from my face, and closing his eyes.
"Michael you're still slightly drunk, you're going to end up with a hango-" I was cut of by our lips crashing together; gentle, but meaningful. His mouth tasted like alcohol and mint, but I didn't care, because after my mistake of thinking he hated me, we were finally together again. We pulled away, and our foreheads touched again, Michael's hands either side of my face, and my arms around his neck.
"Happy Birthday by the way," he said, and I laughed slightly, as he kissed my nose like he did when we watched TV together, back in England, "Oh and Y/N?" He said, I closed my eyes and nodded, not moving my body any futher away from his, "You look cute in my shirt."