Runaway: a Michael Clifford fan-fiction

Chapter 3

MICHAEL'S POV:

The look on her face was absolutely priceless. I saw the excitement in her eyes, she looked genuinely happy. It brought a smile to my face. "What are you thinking?" I ask out of curiosity. She shakes her head, giddy with happiness. "This is astounding," she tells me.

"A lot better than that little place in the woods, huh?" I ask her. She nods her head. "But does this mean..." she starts to say something. I cut her off mid-sentence, "Yeah. You'll be staying here."

Wait, did that sound too rude? Too demanding? I figured she might get the wrong idea so I add, "I mean. If you want."

She didn't even hesitate before saying, "Oh course!" She paused before adding, "But, I'd hate to be a burden."

I laughed. "No, no. You're fine. Come with my, I'll show you around." 

KARENA'S POV:

This place is absolutely astonishing. As he shows me around I notice four bedrooms, all of which have their own bathroom. They also all looked very messy, as if someone were living in them. Michael must just have a lot of stuff, I decided.

He shows me the kitchen and the living room, both of which had top-notch appliances. Did he steal all of this stuff, I wonder. I mean, he couldn't of bought all of this himself. He can't even afford a shirt that isn't all sliced. Not to mention, why would he be in that trashy little cottage if he "owns" this palace? I mean I surely wouldn't spend my time in that dusty, creaky, abandoned little place if I could be in this place. It's practically a mansion, complete with a in-ground heated pool and sauna. I think I even saw a game room in the first hall.

"I know what you're thinking," he states. I'm confused. What does he mean? Before I can ask him, he already answers. "You don't believe that I live here. But, I do. I wouldn't take you here, otherwise."

He then takes my hand and drags me back to the living room, practically forcing me to sit down on the white leather couch. "I will be right back," he tells me. "Stay exactly where you are." He then runs out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. And now that I'm alone, my brain is empty. I just can't think about anything. I was already missing his company, even though he just left.

I was about to call for him and ask him where he was, when he returned to the living room. He was holding two plates and a two-litter of pop. He plops down on the couch beside me, handing me a plate that contains two slices of pepperoni pizza. I scarf down both pieces in a matter of minutes. "You really were hungry," he says nonchalantly as he offers me the bottle of Code Red Mountain Dew. I took it from him, and went to get a sip. That tiny sip turned into a fourth of the bottle. I hadn't even realized I was that thirsty.

After he put our plates in the dishwasher he took me to his bedroom. He sifts through his closet pulling out a long-sleeved flannel shirt and handing it to me. "Here," he says. "I figured you might need something clean to wear after you get out of the shower."

He starts to walk away, motioning me to follow him. He took me into the bathroom, setting the water temperature for me and grabbing me a blue fleece towel. He started to leave the room so that I could shower. I shut the door, twisting the lock tightly. I strip of my clothes and step into the lukewarm water. I washed the grime off of my body. It felt refreshing to wash away all of the dirt. It almost felt as if I were washing away my old life. 

MICHAEL'S POV:

I'm sitting here watching re-runs of Doctor Who when I here her approach me from behind. "Michael?"

I turn around to see her dripping wet and wearing nothing but a towel. I could feel my cheeks redden. "Yeah?" I ask.

She looks hesitant. Almost as if she doesn't want to tell me what she's about to say. "Umm... I kinda didn't bring anything with me. Do you happen to have..." she trailed off, looking away.