Polaroids || Muke au

t w o

michael felt nothing and everything at the same time as he picked up the next polaroid. this one was torn down the middle, then taped back together. he remembers the night it happened; the photo being torn, that is.

 it was a friday night, and luke had come home flat out drunk. michael was pissed. because a) luke promised- he promise- that he wasn't out drinking that night, since it was their anniversary and they were supposed to do something special, and b) he lied. he obviously- obviously- lied.

so michael screamed- a string of very, very bitter words and very, very derogatory slurs. and luke screamed back- a jumble of incoherent syllables at first, then horrible, horrible accusations that really hit home. and the neighbors next door to them banged against the wall- telling them to keep it down, or else they'd call the apartment superintendent.

then luke was in their bedroom, storming back towards michael with a picture in his hands. it was the one on michael's bedside table; the two of them were standing outside of a pizza parlor. luke took michael out to the fancy french restaurant on second street because it was their first anniversary and he really wanted to impress him. they ended up getting pizza instead because the restaurant lost luke's reservation.

michael couldn't really understand what luke was yammering on about, because his voice was so heavily weighed down with alcohol. but he did understand what luke was doing when he tore the picture in two and tossed it on the ground, declaring that they were over.

after luke had left, michael ground his teeth, picked up the two halves of the picture, and taped them back together. he didn't go after luke, and he didn't punch a wall- although he really, really wanted to do both of those things. but he did go to bed that night feeling like the cold side of the bed- luke's side of the bed- was burning his skin.

[luke came back the next day, hungover and apologetic. and even though michael wanted nothing more than to punch his teeth in and throw him out of the apartment, locking the door behind himself, he ended up getting luke an aspirin and then tucking him into bed. and only occasionally had to brush back luke's hair when he decided his stomach couldn't handle its contents.]

now all michael wanted to do was laugh, because maybe that stupid fucking picture told the truth and he was just too naïve to realise it sooner. maybe he and luke were never actually meant to be and michael had just been filling his own mind with lies for the three years they'd been together.

maybe.

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not too sure about this chapter, but ayy double update.

there's probably only one more polaroid chapter and then the actual story should get rolling.

um yeah that's 'bout it.

stay golden.

-rebekka