with love, always, michael clifford

so you're a good girl?

A week later, The Clifford's showed up to the Faucheaux's house. Formal wear attire shown on their bodies. Michael plastered a smile on his face, Asteria wanted to roll her eyes, and Apollo was just happy to be there.

"Michael!" Mrs. Faucheaux smiled when she opened the door. "It's lovely to see you! Come in, come in."

The three people walked into the very nice house with an elegant walkway into the home, a staircase that had carpeted steps and an overhead walkway.

"Casper!" Mrs. Faucheaux shouted. "Come downstairs!"

Asteria let her lips curl as she heard his name, and heard his obnoxious footsteps coming down the stairs. When they made eye contact, Casper felt his heart stop.

Asteria was wearing a sundress with her hair in a twisted half up half down and her eyes stood out – complimenting her appearance.

He had never been one to notice Asteria – the girl he was supposed to hate, but when he did, it's almost like his heart skipped. But instantly, the boy waved off the feeling in his chest and looked at Michael.

"Dr. Clifford," Casper extended his hand for Michael to shake, and they shook their hands firmly. "It's good to see you again."

Asteria wanted to barf.

"Casper," Michael smiled. "It's good to see you, kid."

The group of people entered the Faucheaux living room. Casper and Asteria both leaned against a wall, watching their parents speak on terms. The youngest child, Apollo, stood behind Michael.

"Casper," Mrs. Faucheaux spoke up, causing Casper to glance up at his mother. "Would you be so kind as to show Asteria to your room while the parents speak?"

Asteria saw Casper's eye glimmer as he nodded. Asteria followed the teenager up the staircase and down the hallway – into a bedroom where the walls were riddled with posters.

The room was a simple one at that. Posters of musicians and professional surfers lined the wall, his bed was made with a multitude of pillows and gray striped bedding, with a singular stuffed animal sitting neatly in front of the pillows.

A surfboard was leaning in one corner, a lovesac sort of chair with a soft blanket on it as well and a bass guitar on its own stand. A guitar AMP plugged in next to it on a wooden stand. Asteria noticed the notebook that looked like a bullet journal with paper sticking out on the sides and annotating tabs next to it.

It smelt like a mixture of expensive cologne and vanilla. Asteria was thankful that the room didn't smell fucking awful.

"What?" Casper's voice caused Asteria to leave her observation.

"Your room," Asteria said. "It's... nice."

Casper's eyebrows went together as he heard her statement. He crossed his arms. "Thanks?"

Asteria rocked back and forth on her heels as Casper sat down in his love-sac and kept his arms crossed.

Awkward silence filled the room as Casper watched the teenage girl examine the room like she was in an escape room. His green eyes watched Asteria.

"You didn't sound happy when I called you last week,"

Asteria met Casper's eyes and snickered, finding his sentence funny. "It was 12 am."

"So?" Casper said, leaning back in his love-sac. His arms crossed over his chest. "You sleep before 12 in the morning?"

"Sometimes," Asteria shrugged her shoulders.

Casper's tongue swiped across his own teeth and exhaled a slight breath. He shifted in his seat and smiled cockily.

And he spoke one sentence, which made Asteria's heart – unfortunately – flutter.

"So you're a good girl?"