Sophie POV
My eyes were still filled with tears as I made my way down the hallway in search of someone to comfort me from my shaking state of crying. Counting each door as I walked down the deep red carpeted hallway. 5, 7, 9, 11…
11.
That’s when my tears began to flow heavier.
Rebecca’s room was always number 11. Obviously she wasn’t in there. Why did I even think I could go to find her? Clearly she wasn’t going to be here.
My fingers slowly traced over the brass numbers. My body shaking from the endless sobs leaving my mouth. That’s when two pale arms wrapped around my shoulders bringing me into their room. I didn’t fuss though. All I wanted right now was somebody to hold me close and tell me everything was going to be okay and that she would be back before I knew it.
“Sh, it’s okay” An all too familiar voice mumbled into my hair as his plump lips kissed my head, making soft circles into my arm as I buried my face deep into their chest, curling up on the bed beside them. That’s all I wanted right now was sleep and a cuddle – something that always calmed me and that Harry clearly couldn’t provide.
After awakening from my slumber I sighed softly, turning my head slightly to wipe my eyes rid of the makeup underneath them from the previous crying. A pair of hands taking mine into theirs and running their thumb over the knuckles. A smile on their pump lips before their nose gently nudged mine in a cute way. Nothing pressured like before.
Michael.
He was now holding me in his embrace as he comforted me, despite me claiming ‘oh so many times’ that I couldn’t stand the boy any longer. I wasn’t budging. I didn’t want to. I wanted to stay here where I felt safe for once.
His long fingers slowly made their way under the hem of my t-shirt which was dirty from the sleeping I’d just been taken in. He sat me up slowly, not saying a word as he slipped the shirt over my head leaving me in nothing by my bright pink bra and matching underwear – matching underwear always makes girls feel confident, but not today. My arms quickly lifted to cover my body as he gave a half smile, touching my cheek gently before kissing it softly and slowly handing me his red and white plaid shirt which conveniently still had his scent laced throughout the material.
Before long I was stood in the kitchen with his arms wrapped around my waist laughing happily as we attempted to bake a batch of cookies – his was of attempting to cheer me up.
“No, Michael. If you care put anything on me your top is going to be ruined” I laughed softly shaking my head, clearly not back to my usual self still but wanting to avoid any awkwardness.
“Oh well” He shrugged. That surprised me. Normally he would have a comment ready about how it only meant I’d have to take it off and cook in my underwear. Not a simple answer…
A piece of cookie dough was soon placed on my nose as I scoffed with a smirk and a smile, folding my arms and throwing a small piece of flour at his bare chest, gasping when an egg was cracked on my head.
Chocolate chips were thrown. Flour was bombed and eggs were cracked.
His hair was no longer the colour it used to be but now white from flour as I began to laugh, stopping when his hands found their way under the shirt, resting on my hips as I bit my lip gently looking up at him. His lips moved in as I did to.
That’s when I realised how wrong this was.
I cleared my throat as I turned my back, continuing to bake the cookies before placing them in the oven and making my way to the shower to rid myself of the ingredients over my body. My hands running over my face as I groaned, mentally stabbing myself countless times.
Why did I keep running back to Michael whenever something happened?
That was what people usually did when they loved someone…
