three: uncalled for

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CHAPTER THREE:

| michael's pov |

I shoved my hands in my hoodie’s pocket, trying to keep myself warm on a cold, July night. There was nothing that special happening today. It was probably just a rare time when I wanted to take a stroll along the neighborhood. 

Listening to music, there was no way I could possibly hear someone calling me. The music was blasting, but I could really care less. It was an hour before midnight; I doubt anyone would be looking for me. My mum was sound asleep when I left.

My hood, which was covering my forehead, was taken off by someone. I grit my teeth from slight annoyance. That was uncalled for. 

“What do you want?” I asked, harshly, taking off my headphones and turning to face the culprit- a girl, who looked all-too familiar. I think I stopped breathing when I got a good look at her. 

Her hand tucked a piece of her black hair behind her ear; she was nervous. “I didn’t mean to, sorry. I was… how do I say this?” She asked herself, her brown eyes darting from me to someone behind her.

I took in a deep breath, “It’s… it’s fine, Belle.”

Immediately, I let out a curse. I wasn’t supposed to mention her name. Great, the only opportunity I get to see her and talk to her and I mess up. 

“Oh.” She was obviously surprised, and I felt the tension between us grow even more. I blame myself for that; I was thinking. “What’s your name?”

She’s actually asking me this question, shit. I tried to stop myself from smiling, so she wouldn’t think I was some crazed fan. I just can’t believe it. “Michael.”

Belle grinned, the dimple on her right cheek showing. I felt as if my heart was beating irregularly; I never expected this. I never expected her. “It’s nice to meet you, Michael. I like your hair,” she complimented, pointing at my black and white dyed hair. 

I felt self-conscious.

I remembered her saying that she loved blonde hair on a guy. I was naturally blonde, but I don’t think that would count here.

“Yeah, right. Nice to meet you, too. Thanks,” I said, quickly, pulling my hood over my head again.

“It’s okay; you don’t have to put that on! I like your hair color, I really do,” she explained, exaggerating some of her actions. 

I laughed at how cute she looked. She seemed really flustered over my reactions.

“Michae-

I felt a sharp pain on the right side of my body. My eyes opened, revealing the ceiling of my room. I buried my face in my pillow, ignoring the pain on my arm. 

It was just another one of my dreams.

fanboy ↦ michael clifford {au}Where stories live. Discover now