Lie to Me (Michael Clifford) - Part 2

219 9 0
                                    

Three and a half months.

That was all it took for Michael to fall in love with you.

Of course, he was already a good portion of the way there having known you since last semester. But he knew it was more of a sudden feeling than anything.

The date nights that ended at a lookout point over the city where you would tell each other things you never told anyone else to the entire Saturdays spent making fun of each other during Mario Kart...

Michael knew he'd fallen for you and he'd fallen hard.

But was he going to tell you that?

Sure... If you'd asked him before word had gotten around that you were seeing him, of course. 

Michael was a loner – the outcast of the school. He didn't have many friends and those who were didn't even go there. He was teased, pushed, and flat-out tortured even more so than he had been before – all because he was dating you.

It wasn't your fault – God knows he knew it wasn't your fault. You tried desperately to stop everyone from picking on him, insisting that if they got to know him, they'd realize he wasn't as weird as everyone made him out to be. But no one ever listened.

And you would be the first to admit that you felt terrible about it.

You couldn't help but feel guilty every time someone made some snide remark when they saw you holding his hand – whispering loudly about how you were probably just leading him on just because they knew he'd hear them. You'd simply squeeze Michael's hand, hoping it provided him with the assurance that what those people were saying was complete and utter bullshit.

What you wouldn't admit, though, were the nights you spent locked in your room just to cry.

You hated that they treated him like this, and what you hated more so than that was that these people had the nerve to call themselves your friends. You, of course, distanced yourself from them as the days went by – not that you minded. They weren't really good friends to you anyway – especially not after the way they treated Michael.

But Michael was oblivious to it – not even noticing that you were favoring staying in with him rather than going out with your so-called friends on the weekends or days off of school.

And unfortunately, that was what led to this night: the night Michael was dreading more than anything in the world – even going to school.

This was the night Michael decided he couldn't take the ridicule and humiliation anymore and chose to end things with you.

It had started out innocently enough: Michael had taken you to your favorite fast food place and then to the lookout point over the city – as he did every Saturday night. But you could tell something was off with him. He seemed distracted – like he was lost in his own little world. Sure, he would engage in conversation and listened intently to everything you had to say, but when you were both silently eating your food, he appeared completely out of it.

And when you finally realized why, you felt your heart shatter.

You and Michael were sitting on the bench you always sat on up at the lookout point. Your hand was in his and he was absentmindedly playing with your fingers – as per usual. But when he took a deep breath, you knew – you knew – everything was about to fall apart.

"Princess..." Michael said softly, making you close your eyes, preparing for the worst, "I think... I think maybe we should...see other people..." You let out a shaky breath, causing him to look at you. You shook your head slowly for a few seconds before saying anything.

"Please don't do this, Mikey," you begged softly.

"Y/N," he sighed again, "It's not that I want to break up with you, I just... I can't handle what people are doing to me anymore..."

"That's not my fault, Michael," you reminded him, finally looking back at him.

"I know it's not, princess," he swallowed, "God, I know it's not your fault, but I-"

"Then why am I being punished, Michael? Why am I the one getting in trouble?"

"Princess, I lo-"

"Don't," you cut him off hoarsely, "Don't say it."

"Y/N, I-"

"Don't you dare try to tell me you love me," you stated through the gritted teeth and the tears streaming down your face.

"But I-"

"I don't care, Michael!" you shouted, angrily wiping your cheeks, "Just don't say it! If you really loved me, you wouldn't be saying it for the first time right before leaving me!" He opened his mouth to speak again, but your voice made him stop. It was quiet and shaky and broken, just like he was. "Say you don't," you whispered, "Tell me you don't love me. Tell me you never did."

"Y/N..." Michael choked out.

"Tell me, Michael!" you demanded.

He shook his head slowly, "I can't do that..."

"Then lie to me!"

"No."

"So why are you leaving?!"

"Because you deserve better!" he returned loudly, "You don't want to be with someone like me!" You sucked in a deep breath, reaching over to Michael, grabbing the back of his head, and forcefully planting your lips onto his.

You felt him let out a sigh through his nose, truthfully a bit surprised to feel him kiss back. One of his hands went to your cheek while the other firmly gripped your thigh. Your fingers pulled at the strands of hair they were tangled in, making Michael whimper and groan.

You suddenly pulled him back, both of you breathing heavily.

"Before you leave, just answer one question," you said softly. Michael blinked at you and you took that as a sign to go on. "How would you feel about me kissing other people like that?" you asked. He stared at you for a moment before taking his hands back and looking down at his lap. "You don't get to tell me what I do and don't want, Michael," you stated, "That's my choice. And if I wanted to want someone else, then I would have chosen them. But I don't. I want you." He finally looked up again as you rambled on. "If you want to end it, I  can't make you stay," you swallowed thickly, your fingers combing through his hair, "But you can't expect me to move on if you leave here telling me you love me. And I'm not going to tell you I love you. I'm gonna sit on it, and I'm gonna save it for the person who doesn't run away when things get too hard."

You both sat there for a moment, the only thing happening being your fingers in his hair. Michael was silent, but you could tell by the way he was looking at you that his mind was racing. And it wasn't until his eyes started getting watery that you knew he didn't really want to do this.

"I'm sorry," he let out a short sob, "Please... Please don't make me go."

You instantly pulled his head back to you, but instead of kissing him, his face landed in your neck. His arms wound around your waist, bringing you onto his lap, hugging you like he was afraid this was just a dream and he was going to wake up to find you weren't actually there.

"I love you, Mikey," you whispered as you pressed kisses to the side of his head, "No matter what anyone else tells you, I love you more than anything."

"I love you too," he finally admitted without your interrupting, squeezing you tightly.

And sure, maybe things at school didn't change. But you had Michael and Michael had you, and you were going to get through it together.

~

it was going so well and then it just died right there at the end wow alright okay cool

inspiration: http://illicithemmings.tumblr.com/post/148473919763/confessions-of-a-wallflower-michael-clifford

Imagines and One-Shots (Book Two)Where stories live. Discover now