Colors//m.c

Eighteen

I lead Michael outside, and he starts talking.

"You look really nice in your pajamas. I needed to tell you that." He rubs at his eyes, and shakes his head, as if just waking up. "I just got home. Or I would have visited you "

"You didn't just get home. I saw you there earlier. You don't need to lie." I lead him to a bench by the house.

"Ok so I was home. I was just dealing with my dad." He sits.

"Your high."

"I know." He laughs a little. He looks at me, and then asks, "Can I lean on you?" And without waiting for an answer, sets his head on my lap.

"Okay."

He's looking up at the sky, sighing contentedly. "The sky is really pretty." And without warning, he flops to the grass, pulling me down with him, so i'm looking at the sky. "It is." I agree. Its quiet, apart from the sound of crickets in the dusk.

"Everything is just so hard." Michael speaks softly, not daring to look at me. "And so confusing. I'm so confused. And I can't tell you anything."

"Why not?" I am confused just by his simple statement.

He doesn't answer, just sniffles, and runs a hand through his hair. One of his hands finds his way towards mine, and I find it comforting, and don't shake his hand off.

"Do you know why I dye my hair?" He asks me.

"Why?" I'm still confused, but go along. He scoots closer.

"I always thought of my life simply. Like black and white, no happiness, no color. So I like dyeing it."

"Everythings better in color, right?" I reply. "Michael..." My voice fades, and i'm at a loss of words. How can I help somebody who doesn't want help?

"Huh?" He asks, unconcerned. He scootches closer, staring right at me, and I can't help but feel self conscious.

"I wish you would let me help you. Confide in me. I'll always listen. I'll never leave." I finally get it out.

That's when he pulls away, pushing himself up until he is sitting up.

"So that's how it is-"

"What?" I interrupt him.

"Macey, you expect me to tell you stuff, when you won't even talk to me about stuff!" He's fuming.

"That's different." I blush.

"Not at all! I barely know anything about you! Your name, your birthday. That's it. And you expect me to confide in you?" He narrows his eyes.

"I'm sorry." I furrow my eyebrows, thinking of something not completely idiotic to say.

"Your such an idiot." Michael laughs, bringing his forefinger up to my face. He smiles, tracing the outline of my lips, and tells me, "I'm kissing you now." And presses his lips to mine.

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oh my god Michael ur bipolar jeez son

so IT HAPPENED THEY S AID IT THEY SAID WHAT'S IN THE DESCRIPTION FOR THE STORY SWEET NIBBLETS

this is super short and there's tons of talking but hey it gets the point across well

yeah they are basically forgetting the place they originally met in sorta idk just read on you'll figure out what the place had to do with anything

Expect another update soon :-)

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