Love The Way You Lie - A Michael Clifford/ 5sos Fanfiction

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The next morning I lay in bed. I couldn’t feel. Such a strange statement but it described the moment perfectly. I couldn’t feel anything except for the deep heartbreak and the winding knot in my stomach. Tears ran steadily down my cheeks but my face was like stone. I stared up at the ceiling, expressionless, as the damp spot on my pillow grew. Pain coursed through my veins at every beat of my shattered heart.

I’d done it again. I always do. I let myself fall in love and I’d gotten hurt. This time was a record breaker though. Never have I ever begun to fall in such a short amount of time. It’s pathetic.

Shame added to the pain in my veins as if it were entered through an IV. How could I put so much faith in a person? It made me sick.

I know that this isn’t that bad. I could have been completely in love with him and I know that’s not the case. I love him but I know there is deeper love out there. I mean I have only known him for a few months. But it doesn't make the pain any less real.

The real pain is of the unknown. I know I could have loved him with all of my heart is this hadn’t happened.

But it did.

I still don’t know what even really happened.

Michael was clearly mad at me. I just don’t know why. Had Vanessa told him some lie? Probably. I wouldn’t put it past her.

But what could she have possibly told him to make that look of pure hate enter his eyes?

That’s the part that’s haunting me. He really does hate me. He must. The look in his eyes was cold, lifeless, and full of hatred. The tears continued to stream down my face. That look is what hurts the most. His words were nothing compared to that one look.

I don’t know what to do.

I can’t live my life without knowing what went wrong. I have to talk to him.

Just the thought of seeing Michael again giving me that glare made me feel physically ill. I can’t do it. At least not until I gain some strength. I couldn’t even go to school today. I made up some story about being sick and my mom left me alone. I think she can see through my bullshit but she has the decency to give me some space.

So here I lay, in a pool of my own tears, unmoving, except for the occasional gasp of breath. Not just for air, but for Michael. All I wanted right now was his arms around me, stroking my hair, and telling me everything would be okay.

I cried myself into a fitful sleep.

--Michael's POV--

I took one last drag from the joint in my hand and put it out. Weed wasn't enough to numb the pain right now. I dragged myself from the couch and grabbed a new bottle of whiskey from the kitchen. Taking a swig I plucked the tiny bag of coke from the coffee table. Might as well do a line. After snorting it back I let my mind wander.

I can't believe Payton would do that to me.

I growled out loud and picked up the nearest empty beer bottle from the ground, chucking it at the far wall.

The place was a mess.

Broken bottles crowded corners of the room. It was my way of getting out the anger.

But it wasn't just anger. It was hurt. I'd never admit it but what Payton did made me want to cry. I guess I just filter my pain into rage.

I did a damn good job at it too.

My mind shifted back to reality. Thinking hurt too much and I know something that would help.

Hours later I was completely out of my mind drunk and high off cocaine. That shit made me angry, especially mixed with whiskey.