I'm Not Fine At All 》Michael Clifford

Chapter Ten

Riley's POV:

I woke up laying on my side, my back pressed against someone's chest, and an arm draped over me. I looked at the clock, which read ten thirty in the morning, and smiled as I remembered the night before, and how Michael and I talked about the deep stuff, then fell asleep holding each other. That was the best feeling ever, to feel like I was cared for, wanted.

I rolled over slowly, so that we were facing, somehow without waking the sleeping boy. I took the time while he was asleep to admire his features; his round chin with slight stubble growing around in patches, his pale skin and red lips, his eyes closed peacefully, the thickness of his wild hair even though the amount of color in it, even the tiny scar between his eyebrows, right above his nose...

Suddenly, his husky morning voice startled me and I jumped a little.

"It's rude to stare." I felt my face heat up as I looked quickly away.

"I wasn't staring," I said somewhat convincingly.

"Yes, you were. Don't lie," He said opening his eyes.

"How would you know? Your eyes were closed." I pointed out. I couldn't help but look back at him and stare at his beautiful green eyes, now that he had opened them.

"I could feel it. I know when someone's looking at me, Riley." He smirked and I looked away again. "And also the fact that you're redder than my hair." I smacked his chest lightly and he laughed. I was about to respond when Luke walked in and stopped to stare at us. Michael still had his arms around me, and we were still pressed up against one another under the thick blankets.

"I don't even want to know what happened in here last night..." Luke trailed off, and I hid under the blankets in embarrassment.

"No Luke! You dirty minded-"

"Get out!" I cut Michael off, my shouts muffled by the blankets. Luke just laughed and walked to the kitchen. Michael sat up, but I stayed how I was still too embarrassed to come out.

"What's all the yelling about?" I heard Ashton say sleepily from the other side of the room.

"Nothing." Michael said getting off the bed. I could feel his eyes on me, and I slowly peeked out from under the blankets, and saw his goofy lopsided grin. "Are you gonna get up?" I shook my head and hid again like a little kid. There was silence for a moment, and I wondered what was up, until I felt a huge weight on me. "Ugh, Michael! Get off me!" I grumbled, and felt his laugh. He was facedown on top of me, his chest right against mine. I struggled to breathe correctly as he just layed there.

"Get off!" I groaned, out of breath. "Fine, I'll get up if you do!" I said, and he finally rolled off of me, and right off the bed into the floor. I sat up and laughed as he acted like he was doing push-ups. This boy was so weird and random, and I loved the weird randomness about him.

Michael got in about four push-ups, before he finally flopped down on his back, his chest heaving, as though he'd just run a marathon. "Mikey, you look like you just ran a marathon with one leg, a sinus infection, and a broken nose..." what did a broken nose have to do with this? Nothing, I just added that one for good measure. He laughed at my remark.

"Ha! You try doing fifty push-ups!" He said matter-of-factly. I snorted with laughter.

"You did four!" I said, laughing at the grumpy look on his face.

This boy was most certainly crazy.

>>>>>>

The boys had an interview with a radio station that morning, and I had no idea until ten minutes before they left. I was allowed to stay at the hotel whatever, they gave me the key code to their room, so that I could leave and be able to get back in. They were expecting this to be a long interview, at least a few hours.

I was currently standing in the elevator by myself, going downward. I wished I had Michael to hold onto, but I had to make do with the wall of the moving box.

I was going to go back to my dad's apartment to grab a few things, that way I'd be able to stay with the boys longer. Michael had suggested the idea, and of course the others agreed. So here I was, on my way back to my dad's place. I hoped and prayed as I stepped out onto the sidewalks that he wouldn't be home. It wasn't likely anyhow, considering he only spent about 15% of his life there. The other 85% was spent elsewhere. As she said in The Hunger Games, the odds were looking to be in my favour.

Unfortunately, the odds never seem to be on my favour. I unlocked the apartment door, and was met with my drunk, incoherent father turning circles in the living room.

"Yo-yooouuu!" He spat, and stomped towards me. Before I could react, a hand was around my arm, and in his bone-crushing grip I was being dragged into the kitchen. "Where have you been?" He slurred.

"I-I was just staying with a friend..."

"Liar!" He screamed as he took a filet knife from the kitchen cabinet, and pressed it against my hand. "Where were you?" He asked again.

"I already told you," I said in a shaky voice. I knew it was coming, but I was totally unprepared, when the cold metal was turned in, opening a decent sized gash from half way up my thumb, almost to my wrist, deep and painful. I cried out as the blood trickled down my arm, and he slapped me across the face.

"Get out of my sight!" He roared, then thrusted me forward by my arm, and I ran down the hall to my room. I unlocked the door and ran inside, locking it back and running over to my dresser. I pulled out a sock and tied my hand up the best I could, and pulled out my phone. I knew that he was in the middle of an interview, but I needed Michael.

I clicked on his contact and pressed the call button, then held the phone up to my ear, and waited.

》》》》》》

Author's Note >

I am so sorry for the long wait. It was only a couple days, but that's a long time compared to what I normally update. You see, my brother came back into town for Christmas, and I haven't even spoken to him in months, so we've kinda been catching up.

I've also been song writing, which I'm terrible at, but it makes me happy, so I do it anyways.

I've also got this horrible...

gross...

Disgusting...

Sickening...

Nasty, oh so terrible issue. I'm not going too go into to much detail, because I don't want to make anyone sick, but it's called, my english homework that I'm supposed to do over Christmas break. I have to write an essay..... blah! I hate writing essays!

Anyways, I hope you did not lose your appetite for the rest of the week, like I did.

Thanks for reading, love you all! ♡♡♡
Ri ~