him. ; malum

in which michael clifford takes a notice in calum hood and can't seem to stay away, even though calum tells him not to.
// lowercase intended.


2. ch. 1 - bad little boy

friday // 11:11am

it's him.

the brown-haired boy with the chiseled jaw, swooning eyes, kissable lips, and way too much testosterone. he had to be at least 6 feet. probably even more. the literal, walking epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. i don't think i've ever seen such a beautiful human before. my eyes were hypnotized as if i had stockholm syndrome - knowing i should look away, get away, but i couldn't. my feet took a determined step as i was about to get over to him and-

"hey, mike!" a chirpy voice wrapped around my ears, a set of high-toned cheekbones appearing in front of me. the delicate figure's arm floated up to clutch a desperate hand onto the side of my arm.

what the hell was i talking about before? kissable lips? swooning eyes? what's wrong with me? i'm not usually like this, much less ever talk like it. and if i am, it's completely and utterly fake. pseudo. artificial. fraudulent. a hook, line, and sinker sort of approach. don't get me wrong, though. i'm not a fuckboy, i swear. just a too-hormonal teen that needs to get off his rocks sometimes and relax. it's not a big deal to me or the participant involved.

"oh," i mumbled to myself, quiet enough to avert the irritated tone from her observance. "hey, elsie. didn't see you there, sorry, you caught me by surprise."

her gentle hands attempted to pull me closer, tugging my arm slightly as another hand inched in want toward my own. "of course, of course," she grinned happily, biting the corner of her lower lip in attempt to be seductive (which, i'd like to add, has never worked. never worked for any girl i met, really. but i'm sure it'll happen soon enough with someone), much to my annoyance. "so, ashy is hosting the party tonight. i'm sure you know already though, don't you? you always do, mike."

i almost snort at her use of the nickname "ashy". ashton has always hated being called that, and elsie calls him it all the time. you could practically see the provoking steam hovering off from his forehead.

nodding in a faux interested way, i cast out an understanding sigh, "yeah, right, the party. forgot about that for a bit. what's it for this time?"

"just a 'lil get together, babe!"

a "get together" with the whole goddamn school, that is.

"i don't know, babe, i kind of have a family thing going on tonight-"

"but pleeaase?" elsie whines in a god-awful cry, pink pouty lips languishing in a conceited, pretentious droop. "c'mon, mike, you've been slacking off on the parties lately. don't you wanna have fun, let loose, every once in a while?"

as much as i wanted to say no, elsie was right. what's the shame in having fun?



as i take the few self-assured steps into the familiar vastness that was ashton fletcher irwin's household (although mansion suits it much better), my gaze is greeted by the most familiar sight. it took me a while to notice that i was literally ogling at the boy, a strong-willed, fixed stare directly at him. it made me wonder how everyone else managed to keep their distance away from him.

god, am i seriously going on about this again? i don't even know his name. this is all completely superficial. attractive people attract people. it's as simple as that. i'd do this to any other alluring person in the room.

"i can feel your stare from here," a gruff, low, and dark voice that would draw in the attention of anyone speaks out at me. "are you ever going to say anything? by all means, though, keep gawking at me like i'm an art piece at a museum. makes me feel like i'm actually worth staring at by someone like you."

"someone like me?" i ask, suddenly jutting forcibly back into reality. "what do you mean by 'someone like me'?"

with a cold beer and the residue water drops from the ice in the cooler slowly slipping down off the cap, he raises it to his lips and takes a quick sip, shrugging one shoulder irrelevantly. "don't think i don't know who you are, michael clifford." the way he says my name feels like a dream. "although i've been walking the halls of atkinson university for only three months now, people take notice of the notorious michael gordon clifford. doesn't everyone know your name?"

and they do. small college. but i decided not to correct him when he said my middle name.

"and yet i still don't know yours."

"why should it concern you? aren't you just going to pack me in with every other valueless face you've seen before?" another chug of beer cascades his throat, adam apple bobbing down with it.

what is this guy's deal? and why am i so intrigued by this mysterious enigma of a boy when i'm usually emotionally trying to distance myself from others? and why am i using the word enigma?

"i never said you were unimportant," i clear my throat, wanting to look into his eyes, but scared that it's a bad reaction. although, when i eventually do, it's the same expressionless face that he always has on. i began to wonder if he ever felt any actual emotion or if he just had a hella good pokerface. although, i didn't give in to believe that he was that kind of guy. not the bad little boy that he tries to act like.

"if you really must know, it's calum. calum hood. age 20. junior. transfer. aquarius. 6'4," he lets out a scoff, biting his lower lip into a charmingly boyish smile. strange, because when other people bite their lip, i find it bothersome - yet when he does it, i can't seem to look away.

finding my lips raise up in a grin on instinct, i give calum a playful wink, "aha, so the boy smiles! i was starting to think he was a robot of some sort."

crossing his arms, i could tell he was trying to build up back a barricade, a limitation to close people out. "yeah, yeah, this isn't fuckin' star wars."

"star wars?" i said in absolute surprise, my voice not helping to let out an amused chuckle. "i never fazed you as the star wars type, mr. calum hood."

"and i never fazed you to be so.. so..." he found himself at a loss of words, a rare occurrence for the audacious-acting boy.

having a full-blown, beaming smile on my lips at this point, i tilted my head to the side slightly in curiosity as to what calum was about to say. "'so' what?"

"so..." divulging out a dramatic, defeating sigh, he glanced down. "something."

"well sometimes reputations are not what they're hyped up to be, calum."

"you're telling me."

suddenly, a high-pitched, non-familiar voice comes into view and a brunette with tight black leggings and a small crop top that looked more like a hemmed-lace bra flashed a smile in my direction. "mikey, hey!"

it's been 15 minutes since i got here without being interrupted. that's a new record.


[ a/n ]

michael god dammit youre in love with the boy already

;; also this chapter was inspired by the song 'bad little boy/good little girl' from adventure time ;;

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