My first- A Michael Clifford Fan Fiction

Chapter 17

Luke stayed with me, silence was the only thing that accompanied us. My mind raced and with all of my being I wanted to run to Michael, but my legs remained frozen in the same position.

"Why'd you bring her?" Luke motioned to Everett as soon as Ashton rushed through the door.

"There was no keeping her away when she heard Heather was here." Ashton seemed somewhat bothered by Luke's question, but he brushed it off.

Everett lifted me from the couch and threw her arms around me. She was talking faster than I could keep up with and my body was as numb as my brain. I couldn't feel anything, I couldn't focus, and I couldn't talk. My eyes drifted around the room while Everett supported my limp body. Luke eventually realized, and aided Everett in bringing me back to the couch.

I sat there. I sat and I sat and I sat. I stared at my hands in my lap and memorized the pattern of the carpet below me. Simple things were all that I could process.

The only thing that broke my daze was hearing the words,"He's asking for you." The closer I got to him, the more aware I became. The fog I was trapped in retracted and I practically sprinted to his room.

I found him laying in his bed, surrounded by our friends. As if it was possible, I became shocked again. I never realized how genuine and self-less the other people in the room were. I was beyond wrong for ever assuming they were true to their reputations.

"We sobered him up a bit and I think he's good. Will you stay with him?" Calum gave me a weak smile.

"Of course." I hugged every single one of them before closing the door behind them.

I quickly turned to Michael, desperate to be in his arms again. His eyes were sad and apologetic, but I refused to consider him guilty.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry you had to see that, that you had to be a part of my fucked up life." He whispered the same two sentences in my ear and he held me close to his body. He sat on the bed and I stood between his legs, our hands intertwined in his lap.

"It's me who should be sorry." I couldn't stop myself from running my hand through his red hair. I felt for a moment I wouldn't be able to do it again, and I couldn't fight the urge once I got the chance.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. I should be thanking you actually. I understand if you don't want to be here with me after you found me like that. I should've told you sooner." He rambled .

"If anything, this makes me want to stay even more." I whispered.

"I don't need your pity." He stood up from the bed and shoved past me.

"I'm not going to let you do this. You aren't just going to push me away like this." I blocked the entrance to his room and watched his reaction.

"I was trying to tell you I should apologize for all of the times I judged you, for all of the times I called you an asshole who was mindlessly cruel." I spoke up before he could protest. He stopped walking as soon as the words left my mouth. He took long strides back towards me and pushed my body against the door. He breathed down on me heavily and took in every detail of my face before he crashed his lips to mine. This kiss wasn't like the others, though, I could feel every emotion he was feeling within it, all of his anger, his sadness, his passion.

He lifted me up, causing me to wrap my legs around his torso. He broke contact briefly, his eyes ablaze.

"You have no clue how much I need you, and I don't just mean like this." He whispered. My heart exploded in my chest and I smiled wider than I thought possible. His familiar smirk appeared on his face as he leaned in, desperate to resume contact. The more our bodies touched, the more I wanted. I wanted all of him and by the look he was giving me, he wanted the same.