rebel ➳ clifford au

➳ 06

[unedited. please vote and comment it'd mean a lot.]

06. she's got a boyfriend anyway.

By the time I wake up, my head hurts it’s the only thing that comes to mind. And sitting up wasn’t any better. Resting my head in my pillow, I rubbed my temples.

Fucking alcohol and its after effects.

Looking at my bedside table, I saw a glass full of icy water and some pills next to it, waiting for me to take them. It made me realize I wasn’t alone, but, who brought this to me? It couldn’t be my mom; if she knew I was wasted she’d wake me up
with a kick in the face, not a glass of water.

“Fuck, my head,” I groan, closing my eyes, as if that would make it hurt any less.

“Oh, you’re awake,” a masculine voice I do not recognize talks. Holy shit, did I take someone home last night?

“Hmmm?” It’s all I can say as a response. My head is fucking pounding and I know talking will make it worse than it already is.

I was never someone to handle hangovers, hence the reason why I don’t usually drink. Except last night. Fuck last night.

“How are you feeling?” The bed dips beside me and I feel my blood run cold.

I sit up with a jolt and somehow manage to ignore the pain that went rushing to the top of my head, “Michael?”

“Who’s asking?” He answers, smirking.

“What the... what the fuck are you doing here? In my house? In my room? Who the fuck let you in?”

“You were the one who let me in last night, princess.” He answered with his cocky smirk.

“What do you mean?” I asked, terrified. Please, let this not mean what I think it does. Did I sleep with Michael last night?

“Yes, after you passed out in my fucking car, I had to carry you to your room, through the fucking window.” He said, amused. I let out a big breath of relief.

“Thank God.” I murmured, taking the pills and swallowing them with a big gulp of water. He looked at me for a long time, a serious expression on his face. “What?”

“Nothing. I'll get going.” He answered; his voice as serious as his expression. He took his coat and slipped his phone into his back pocket, making his way to the door, ready to leave without a second glance.

“Michael,” I called, and waited for him to turn his head to see me, “thanks for taking care of me last night.”

“It was nothing, really,” He answered coldly.

Just as he disappeared through my door, I heard another male voice at the end of the corridor.

“Clifford, what the fuck are you doing?”

My blood ran cold.

It was Ashton.

Ashton as in Ashton Irwin, as My Ashton, as Ashie, as-

“Boyfriend Star!” I heard Michael cheering, “what brings you here in this lovely day?”

“My girlfriend does.” He bitterly answered.

“Oh, you mean the one you left alone last night with tons of rapists and drunk guys trying to make her pass out to have sex with her? Yeah, she's in her room. By the way, how’s your hangover going?”

There was no response of Ashton’s; instead, strong footsteps were heard making their way into my room, and I wasn’t prepared to face this situation. I didn’t cheat on Ashton, I didn’t do anything with Michael, ever, but talking to him even though Ashton clearly hates his guts already made me feel guilty enough.