Imagines and One-Shots (Book Three)

Free Parking (Michael Clifford) - Part 2

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Three weeks later

​It had been almost a month since Michael had given you any more trouble – and you weren't going to play dumb as to why. You knew it was because you almost had a breakdown in front of him – you could see it in his face every time he'd glance in your direction when you passed him as he was leaving the building and you were going in – but he never said anything. Not until now, that is.

Michael's POV

Michael was walking up the sidewalk that led to the building when he suddenly heard your voice. The sound made him look over to the tree you were sitting under, only a few feet away from the front door.

"Calum's not home," you informed him softly.

"Oh..." he said, "Well... Do you know when he'll be back?"

You shook your head, and that was when he realized you hadn't looked up at him. He walked over to you, sitting on the bench a about a foot away, wondering why you weren't there in the first place.

"You okay?" Michael asked you.

"Yeah," you whispered again. You could tell – even though you weren't looking at him – that he was about to call you out, so you spoke again, "Thanks for the flowers the other day."

"You're welcome," he replied just as quietly, "I would have gotten you real ones, but Cal said you can't keep them alive so I thought you'd appreciate fake ones more." You couldn't help but laugh under your breath as you nodded, but you didn't say anything else. So Michael continued. "Seriously, Y/N, are you okay?" he asked carefully, not sure exactly how to approach the subject.

"I'm fine," you whispered, but Michael could still see right through you.

"Listen..." he sighed, moving from the bench to sit on the ground next to you, "I'm sure I'm the last person you'd want to talk to about the things that are bothering you – hell, I'm sure Calum has a better shot than me – but I... I've never seen you cry over some dick move I've made when it came to that parking spot, so whatever made you do that the other night isn't nothing." You remained silent, causing him to sigh again, "Look, Y/N, either you can tell me what's wrong or I can awkwardly hug you until you're not angry with me anymore." You tried not to let yourself laugh at the comment, but it was no use. You brought your hand up, wiping your cheeks with the sleeve of your sweater.

"It's stupid," you whispered.

"It's not stupid if it almost got my windshield smashed," Michael shook his head, "Which – unlike the key scratches on the door – I definitely would have made you pay to get fixed." You smiled again, sniffling slightly. You didn't say anything for a few moments, but something told him that you were going to, so he waited. And his patience finally paid off.

"There's this girl at work... Raquel..." you started softly, "She comes in all the time... But all she does is walk around and point out everything I'm doing wrong. She doesn't do it to anybody else and none of the people I work with have a problem with her when I'm not there... I just don't know what I did... I'd never even met her before she started doing it..." You wiped your face again and took a deep, shaky breath in while Michael watched and listened to you intently. "I went into work that day when...you know...only to find out that I'd been 'let go' – or so they told me," you sighed again, "I guess that girl is the guy who owns the place's daughter... She made up some story about how I'm the worst waitress she's ever had because I was making rude comments about the things she ordered every time she came in and I was purposely bringing her the wrong things and ignoring her when she tried fixing it even though none of it is true and she can't prove any of the things she said I did to her..."