I woke up with a terrible headache, in a room I didnt recognize and wrapped in arms I didn't know.
I turned my head and finally realized that it was Mickey holding me, and that this was his room.
"Fuckin' hell..." I said quietly to myself.
I managed to get out of his clutch and noticed I was wearing his favorite shirt and the same pants i wore to work last night.
No sex, not that I can remember atleast. I looked in the mirror and scoffed at the fact that I managed to sleep not only in my makeup, but that I also managed to get a bruised lower lip.
"Damn it Mickey!" I spoke, not realizing the very milkovich was sat up in bed watching my every move.
"Ya know kid, that's not the first time I've heard someone say that" he said gently, while scaring the shit out of me in the process.
"Yeah, it probably wont be the last time Mickey. And don't call me kid it's weird" I loudly spoke while removing my lashes and make up from last night .
"I'll call you what I please " he spoke, taking a cigarette out of his pack and lighting. As he exhaled, he pointed the cigarette at me and began talking.
"Why do you wear that shit? You don't need it" I laughed.
"Because if I'm at the club I need to look my absolute best. Can't make money looking like trash." He chuckled and shook his head.
"Fucking Gallaghers"
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Guess who's bbaacckk?
I'm sorry I took a rather long hiatus on this story. Life was and still is hard and im trying to make the best of it ♡
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1955 S Trumball Ave
Fiksi PenggemarWhen you think of south side chicago, two family names come to mind. The Gallagher's...and The Milkovich's. One family is known for the fact their matriarch is a drunk with a drug addiction to boot and the other family is known for causing so many p...
