somebody to you || m.c

Chapter 25

I was back here again. Why is it when everything turns bad I find myself here? In this exact same spot? Doing nothing but thinking about him.

I bring my knees to my chest, begginging to let out the sobs I had been holding in. I couldn't cry in the car, unless I pulled over, and all I wanted to do was get here. To the place where it all began. Well, kind of. It's the place where Michael asked me to be his girlfriend. I don't want to go back to that club, because it doesn't hold happy memories anymore. All I think about is that girl.

I cried because I felt lost. And scared. And even when he's fucked shit up, I still miss him. Michael. I still fucking miss him even though he has been nothing but awful to me the last two weeks.

I feel my phone buzz in my pocket, whimpering as I see the name: Michael. My brain screams at me not to pick it up, to let it go to voice mail, but I don't. I'm too damn in love with him to ignore him.

"Hello?" I say shakily into the phone. i hear a loud sigh onthe other end of the phone, signalling that he was there. I start to cry even harder.

"Baby, don't cry," He whispers, fumbling around with his phone.

"Don't call me baby, Michael. You only make it hurt more," I whisper, wiping my eyes veraciously, trying to rid them of my tears.

"I don't want you to hurt. I just want to hold you and stroke your hair and call you baby and tell you everything is alright and how sorry I am and how much I love you," He slurs, and I realise that he's drunk. I should have known, he's too stubborn to call me after a huge fight like that.

"Michael, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have picked up," I cry, unlocking my phone and hovering my thumb over the End Call button.

"Please don't go, baby. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I'm such a horrible person, and I'm sorry that I'm selfish and made you feel bad. I still mean every word I've ever said to you, I want to make you feel beautiful. And I know I haven't, but hey, that speech was like something out of a fairy tale. This is real life, baby, it's messy. People make mistakes, I'm only human. I'm not perfect. But you are and I'm sorry for bringing you down with me, baby. I'm sorry, I love you"

"Michael.." I breathe shakily, running a hand through my hair.

"I don't expect you to forgive me. I know I was horrible. But I promise you, I will never do that to you again. I'm so sorry," He groans, smashing something in the background. "Fuck.." He mutters to himself, putting his phone down and cleaning up the mess he had just made.

"Are you okay?" I ask, beginning to worry.

"Why is it when I'm being an absolute asshole you still worry about me?" Michael chuckles on the other end of the phone. I should be hanging up on him, I should be ignoring him completely. But I'm stupid in love.

"I shouldn't, should I?" I giggle, realising how ridiculous I am. I should be hoping he cut his own fucking hand off, but instead I fear the thought. I don't want him to hurt, I want him to be happy.

"Michael, you're an asshole," I sigh, looking out to the ocean.

"I know, babe," He agrees.

"Guess where I am?" I ask, twirling a piece of hair between my fingers.

"I don't know, baby, where are you?"

"I'm at the ocean," I say. I look out, sighing. What am I doing? I shouldn't be talking to Michael. It will just make getting over him harder if I can't let him go. I love him, fuck, I love him, but I can't handle this relationship right now. I am going to flunk out of University and never get a job, because I'm deeply in love with a tall dork with lilac hair who does nothing but listen to music and continuously dye his hair.

He pauses for a minute, as if he was in deep thought, which I highly doubt. It was Michael.

"Where I took you?" He asks, sounding a lot more sober than he did before.

"Yeah," I say, contemplating just hanging up the phone.

"Hey, are you okay? You sound a lot more distant and sad than you did before," Michael says, sounding concerned. He shouldn't be. It'll only make things harder for him, too.

"I'm fine"

"'I'm fine' doesn't actually mean I'm fine. It means you're sad. I understand Georgie, we can work all this out. Just come home and cuddle me," He giggles, sounding like a child wanting his mummy to give him a cuddle.

"No, Mike. You and I both know that this isn't going to work," I sigh, biting my lip. "Maybe we should just end things now. Make it easier," I say, feeling an actual pain in my chest as the words escape my lips.

"George," He whimpers, dropping something on the floor. I can't tell if it was his phone or something else, but the sound alarmed me.

"Michael Gordon Clifford, I love you more than I have ever loved anyone in my entire life--"

"Then why can't we be together? I promise I'll change, I promise--"

"Promises don't mean anything," I say loudly.

"Yes they do," He argues, and I can imagine him folding his arms over his chest and giving me his best pout. It would work on me. Every. Time.

"Michael, please. Stop making this so difficult," I groan.

"Why does it have to be difficult? Be with me forever, that's that"

"It's not that simple, Mike. This relationship is taking a horrible tole on me, I've lost my sense of humour. My sense of humour, Michael. My sense of humour is the only thing that doesn't make me boring as fuck. I love you, but I can't handle the stress that is our relationship. There's too much drama, and too much sadness for me to handle. We had a good run, but--"

"Stop! Georgia, I love you, you love me, just fucking marry me!" Michael yells, taking me by surprise.

"Did you just propose?" I ask, biting my nails nervously.

"Fuck yes I did. Marry me," He says, sounding desperate. Like marrying me is the only thing that will make me stay.

"I can't just marry you," I sigh. "That won't fix our problems, our relationship. I was just starting to trust you again and you fucked everything up, Michael. I can't just say 'fuck it' and run back into your arms like a puppy and marry you! You're crazy!" I yell, rubbing my temples. This conversation is giving me a headache and I need to end it.

"I'm crazy for you," Michael says.

"You're so cheesy," I roll my eyes at Michaels little pun. Then we sat in silence for what seemed like forever, neither of us having the guts to speak.

"Please forgive me"

"It's not that simple"

"Please, I'll be your slave for a year"

"Michael, making you my slave won't fix all our problems"

"Yes, I know, but it's a start. You just need time to trust me again, and while you're doing that I'll give you free back massages and a nice fuck now and then. Please?"

"Michael, seriously? A nice fuck? You're so unbelievable," I scoff.

"I'm sorry," He whines.

"Michael, I have to go now," I say, hovering my finger over the End Call button.

"George," He whines.

"I'll talk to you soon, though."

"Do you promise?"

"Promises don't mean anything."

"Yes they do!"

"Fine, I promise Michael. We'll talk soon," I sigh, regretting my decision to promise to talk to him again. I just want to have a trial run without him, but I can't bring myself to say that to him.

"Okay, bye Georgia. I love you," He sighs.

"Bye," I sigh, hanging up the phone.