laced with my doubts.

7

"M-mi-mikke." I stuttered as I turned my face away from his.

"I. I don't want to talk." I rushed, throwing myself beneath the covers again.

"Michelle....please?" He asked, I could hear the creaking of the floor boards beneath him, as his weight shifted. From foot, to foot.

"Mike I said go away!" I almost shouted as I crawled further and further away from his voice.

"No, you said you didn't want to talk. There's a difference." He said, finally sitting next to me.

"Come on Mitch, please? You don't have to talk...I just want to sit here." He sighed, rubbing my back slowly from over the covers.

"Fine." I sighed, knowing I wouldn't win. Mike always did what he wanted, what made this any different?

I slowly peeled the covers back, exposing my ruffled hair and smeared mascara.

I looked away as I attempted to wipe away the smudges, and silence my constant sniffles.

He firmly placed his hands on my shoulders and twirled me unwillingly around to face him.

"Did I do that?" He solemnly asked as he swiped his thumbs below my eyes, collecting the tears I wasn't able to stop.

"N-no." I stuttered along, sucking in shaky breaths as my chest heaved.

He wrapped his arms around me and ran his hand the length of my back, repeatedly stopping his hand at the base of my shorts, and turning it back around at the neck of my shirt.

"I'm sorry." He breathed into my hair. Pressing his lips gently to the top of my head.

I grumbled in response, still not enjoying his presence.

"Mitch, please?" He asked, his voice breaking slightly.

Was he crying?

I whipped my head up, my eyes immediately locking with his glassy, tear filled ones.

I lunged towards him, locking my arms around his neck.

He desperately clung to my back, almost as if he was afraid to let go.

And for the first time in 3 hours, I never wanted mike to leave.