Unfrozen

Cold as ice itself, and pale as the snow itself, Michael Clifford is not the type of 6ft boy you should be messing with, unless it's a death with you are asking for. But when someone crosses his path, his entire life turns all the way around, and maybe he might just show his soft spots.

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25. Separating

"Michael, what are you doing here?" I ask.

"Wait, that's Michael?" My mom asks. 

"Yes," I reply.

"Isn't that the boy that hit you?" My dad asks. 

Shit.

They probably don't want me hanging around him.

I can't lie.

I'm absolute shit at lying. 

Michael stands sheepishly in the corner, hands in his pockets, his head looking down.

"Yes," I say.

Michael's eye immediately look up at mine.

His eyes have mixed emotions.

Sad, angry, and confused. 

I feel terrible.

Absolutely terrible. 

 

*~*

 

I'm lying in my bed crying.

I'll never see Michael again.

And it's all my fault. 

My phone is blowing up from Michael texting me.

I ignore it.

I try to ignore the pain, but it's not working.

Nothing's working.

The boys are going to leave soon and Michael and I will never have any closure. 

I love him and he loves me.

But nothing can be simple in my life.

Nothing can. 

Especially with Michael.

Tears stream down my face as I think about him.

His stupid, goofy smile.

His laugh, his eyes, and his touch.

God, I really miss him.

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