Michael's Flower |M.G.C| AU

|8|

My head hung low, trying to avoid his stares from his locker. Originally, I thought it was a sad stare, but the sweet boy I had grown to love had a thick (dick) glare at me. He stared at me like I killed his favorite person. Maybe I had, considering I slowly tore myself apart, I don't wash my face, my hair is greasy, I can't smile because he won't give me that goofy grin that made me desire hugs more than any small child could ever desire.

That conversation we had was beautiful. It showed just how I wasn't the only on who created some sort of attachment towards the other person in out relationship, which I was grateful for. A sweet boy like him should never get rejected. I tried to smile at him, but the furrowed eyebrows just rejected me back, and I had to hold my dramatic self back from collapsing onto the floor from such a pain in my heart.

I just wanted his attention. Maybe I should just take him, if that's what he need to want to be around me again.

Ashton, who had sneakily stood behind me, due to the fact refused to allow Ash and I to interact. So he snuck around because he understood what it was like to be abandoned. I'm, to this day, still grateful for the amazing person he happened to be.

"Parker, don't do it. You have morals." He mumbled closely to my ear, and from that point forward, I would constantly mumble "Morals morals morals", that was until a boy looked at me like I was a satanic being.

The last thing I heard before heading into first class was, "Hey Parker, why don't you go fuck our neighbor? I see the way you look at him." He didn't even call me Parks or Parky, that stung. What really burned into my heart was that fact I heard him attempting mumble to his new, football team friends about how I'm such a slut or whore, I can't remember because I tried to block it out.

He didn't want me to hear how he accused my soul of being slutty.

He still cared, but he hurt enough to act like he didn't care.

His touch was still my favorite thing.