Loving the Man

Chapter 9: Pursuit of Anger

"Start talking." Michael stared at his blank TV screen with something absent in his look.

"Why didn't you just hang out with Franklin? Or at least have him take you home?" I questioned him, starting with the obvious questions first.

"I don't know."

"There's more to it." I glared at him, but he didn't even glance at me. He was sitting on his couch, a glass of whiskey in hand, and I was sitting on the side chair, wondering why he's being so stubborn, aside from the fact that he lost his wife.

"I started getting this headache. My mind went blurry and I passed out. God knows what happened.." Michael yawned and finally looked over at me. "What's your story for looking so horrible?"

He did not just say that. What the hell happened to him? "Michael, Jesus Christ." My mouth dropped in shock. "I drove over a hundred miles to come talk to you. I expect you to cooperate." I quickly shut my mouth and gritted my teeth. Quick temper -- it ran in the family.

"Who told you to?" Michael took a drink from his glass. That's IT, he's not having anymore. I got up and before he could retaliate, I ripped the glass from his hand and chucked it at the wall. It crashed and shattered.

In anger, he jumped up and got in my face.

"WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!" Michael exclaimed, scowling.

"You need to stop drinking. It's not--"

"I don't give a shit about what it's not!" Michael growled, marching from the living room to the kitchen. I heard him get out another glass and pour himself another. "Just leave."

"You are disappointing." I barked back at him. "You have two children, who both just lost their mother. I definitely understand the fact that you lost your wife. I am here as a fucking friend, not the back-up girl!"

"I don't need a friend!" Michael snatched the entire bottle of whiskey and marched to the staircase, starting up it to go to his room.

"Everyone needs a friend!" I called after him, chasing him up the stairs.

"Leave me alone." He whipped around, squinting his eyes at me. "If you want to do me a favor and help me, leave me with my sorrow." He turned back around and entered his room, slamming the door behind me.

"Stubborn asshole!" I shouted at the door, my heart pounding with rage.

"Fuck off." He responded with anger.

"Michael, I swear to fucking God, I will get you to talk." I opened the door, having to kick it open due to Michael putting a chair against it. He was standing at the end of his bed, staring with piercing hate.

"Get out, now." He hissed.

I jumped at Michael, tackling him to the ground and pinning him down before he could try to act. He was drunk, definitely, and so his coordination was way off. I pinned his arms with my hands and I had my knee pressing on his chest so he couldn't get up.

"Cooperate." I growled.

"What do you demand from me?" He squirmed, trying to get up. It didn't work.

"Stop being such a bitch to me." I answered from pure anger. "And maybe, JUST maybe, I'll stop being an asshole to you."

"Whatever, you wouldn't even be here if you didn't like me." Michael attempted to move his hands but I kept them pinned down tightly.

"That's right, I do like you. You are a great friend, but you definitely have your downfalls. Like right now, you are being a complete ass." He rolled his eyes and continued to squirm.

"I just lost my wife. It's like all the color in the world, if there even was any, is gone. It feels like my heart is gone. It's like they all ran away on their own happy vacation, leaving me here with my brain and its depressing thoughts." Michael's head rested against the ground and he closed his eyes.

"Don't tell me you fell asleep..." I poked his face and shook him. Yeah, he was out cold.

"You stupid son of a bitch..." I grumbled, crawling off of him and standing up. I grabbed his legs and drug him to the side of the bed. 

It took ten minutes to get him on his bed. He kept rolling off as soon as I'd get him up there. Now, he's laying in the middle of his bed, lightly snoring, which was, in my opinion, very adorable. I covered him up with the blanket and put a pillow under his head. I really wanted to put it on his face and suffocate him, but I resisted it and placed it under his head.

Poor guy, I wouldn't even want to guess what he's going through.

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Once again, another small chapter. I'm trying to make these longer but I'm running out of ideas and I'm getting writer's block really frequently (I blame school). Sorry, I'll try to make the next one at least 3 pages long... which isn't much but still.

Thanks for all the support guys! It means the world to me with all your votes, reads, and comments! Keep it up c: