✧ Obsessed™ » kellic au [BOOK ONE]

17. A-T-T-I-T-U-D-E

Pov: Mike. 

I fucking love Sunday mornings. You know, you can sleep in as much as you like, disregard the matter of waking up and getting to school by 8:00am, have the comforting feeling of your warm and comfortable bed sheets suppress your muscles and beam at the fact you won't have to leave their luxury anytime soon. Sunday mornings, are by far my favorite mornings, they always have been. Though, this particular Sunday morning didn't quite make the cut.

I was woken up at exactly 6:15am.
I repeat: 6:15 A. M.

Being woken up on a Sunday at such a time does not equal a happy Mike. The cause of my awakening? The sound of a loud crash flowing from my brothers room. Sitting up right in my bed as soon as I'd heard the sound, I rubbed at my heavy eyes and groaned when I realized I wouldn't be able to get back to sleep, hence the loud noises Vic decided to create.

What the fuck is he doing now?!

Practically leaping out of my bed, my sock covered feet stormed along our soft, cream carpet, eventually reaching the room at the end of the hall. I clenched my hand around the cold metal door handle, and swung the entrance open, only to lay my eyes upon a scanty excuse of a big brother, standing on his toes to reach the box that sat on his top shelf, another box laying beside him with mama's vintage plates sure to be smashed from within it. 

I always knew it would be a bad idea to keep those precious ornaments in Vic's bedroom.

Leaning by the door frame with my arms crossed over my chest, Vic failed to notice my incidence, "What the fuck are you doing?" I asked in bewilderment, though my tone was overly annoyed. Vic spun his head around, lowering himself back down to the hardwood floor as a quiet groan discharged his lips, "I'm trying to get the box of clothes that don't fit you anymore. There's something in there I want to try on."

"Okay?" I started, a questionable tendency in my voice, "and, why exactly do you feel the need to try on my clothes?"

"Your old clothes, don't you mean?" he corrected, and I rolled my eyes, "It's because I'm going out tonight, and I want something new to wear."

I know this is mean, but I couldn't help but laugh as soon as he'd told me he was "going out tonight." Where could he possibly be going? A party? The only party he would ever be going to is a study session with his nerdy friend Tony, it was sad but it was true. My brother's a fucking loser, and honestly, it embarrassed me sometimes, especially when he retained his awkward self as I'd tried to flirt with girls, telling a lame joke to attempt to "earn me a score" which only made them raise their eyebrows at me in confusion. He was attempting to help, but he did anything but.   

"What?" Vic shot a dangerous death glare my way, his forehead creating crinkles as he got a little defensive, "Someone invited me to a football game. Is that hard to believe?" 

Yes. 

"No." I shot my hands up in the air in a motion of defence, before I walked over to where he stood in front of the alpine shelf. I had no trouble getting the much wanted box of materials down, and this clearly frustrated him because he, along with my mother and father, lacked the advantage of tallness. I guess it was a good thing my brother dreamed of being a vocalist, and not a basketball player or runway model, because he obviously didn't have the height for the two said occupations.