Broken // Michael Clifford [Finished For Now]

Chapter Twenty Nine

Diana POV

I woke up with a splitting headache, not wanting to open my eyes because of the pain. I shifted my head on the pillow it was resting on, realizing that I was in an empty bed when I didn't feel Michael's body next to mine. The curiosity of where he had gone overpowered the pain of my headache so I opened my eyes. He wasn't in his room, but the door was cracked open as if he had left with the intention of returning soon.

I decided to look around his room until he came back. There were a lot of posters hanging up on his walls. They were all of bands like Green Day, Blink 182, and All Time Low. I had recently noticed that he wears a lot of band tee-shirts; a lot of which were scattered in a pile on the floor.

I heard the door creek open some more as Michael walked in. He had a glass of water and some pills in his hands. "Hey! You're up!" He smiled, sleep still thick in his voice.

"Yeah." I groaned because of how loud my voice seemed because of the pain in my head.

"Here. The doctor said you have to take these in the morning and at night to help with your head and stuff." He explained, handing me the items he brought in.

I gratefully took the water the medicine, quickly gulping it down. "Thank you." I said, hoping that the medicine would kick in soon.

"Mhmm." He hummed, bending down to grab a Green Day shirt from his floor pile. "Do you know when we can go to your house for, like, clothes and other stuff you need?"

"I'm not sure. I can call Officer Landon today and ask if they arrested him yet." I said referring to my dad.

"If we can't go today it's fine. I don't mind you wearing my clothes." He winked at me from across the room.

"Well, the shirt isn't too bad, but the sweatpants are about fifty sizes too big." I explained.

"You wanted the sweatpants!" He reminded me as he laughed.

"But they're still fifty sizes too big!"

"I don't think they are that oversized, but, okay Diana, whatever you say. Speaking of clothes, do you want me to wash yours from yesterday?" He offered.

"No thats okay. I can wear the jeans and one of your shirts." I replied.

"What if I don't want you to wear one of my shirts?" He asked.

"You just said that you didn't mind me wearing your clothes!" I pointed out.

"Touché." He laughed, bending down to grab another shirt from his pile and throwing it at me.

I caught it in my hands and gave him a questioning look.

He cocked his eyebrow at my expression. "What?"

"Why don't you put these away if they're clean?"

"Cuz I'm too lazy to." He shrugged.

I only shook my head as he walked over to his door and shut it. He then grabbed a pair of black skinny jeans from a drawer and threw both his shirt and the jeans onto his bed next to me. He grabbed the hem of his shirt and began pulling it over his head. I was a little shocked so I did what any mature eighteen year old would do and threw the covers back over my head to shield my eyes.

I could hear him lightly chuckling at my childish behavior. I peeked my eyes out from under the covers to see if he had put his new shirt on yet only to see that he was now only wearing a pair of boxers. I felt my eyes grow wide and a small shriek of nervousness escape my lips as I went back to my hiding place.

I was shocked at how comfortable Michael was with changing like this while I was in the same room. I was even more shocked when he lifted up the covers, still only wearing his boxers along with a stupid smirk.