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Michael was able to get Liz home. She's miserable. She's filled with so much hate and sadness that she just can't function right anymore. She's become an angry hermit.

He's pulled back from recording a little bit to keep an eye on her because she's basically a ticking time bomb. He wants to take care of her but she really don't let him back in.

Right now, she's got the bedroom door shut while she hotboxes the room. He's sitting on the floor in the hallway with his back against the door, his guitar in his arms and his notebook next to him.

Liz feels so awful for feeling like this but she needs space without the space. She can hear him playing a few chords to himself.

She sighs heavily as she gets to her feet, standing on shaky legs and makes her way to the door.

"Michael." Her voice is hoarse and raspy. He stops what he's doing to listen to her talk to him for the first time in probably a couple months. "I'm sorry." He moves his guitar to the side to free his hands up to open the door. He looks over his shoulder to see an incredibly tearful Liz and his heart aches. He almost immediately pulls her for a hug, his hand running over her dirty, tangly hair. "I'm so- I'm sorry." It sounds like a whimper mixed with a choked sob.

"Don't be." He whispers back, sliding her into his lap. He holds her close in his arms, letting her bury her face in his shoulder. "Let's get you a bath."

She doesn't budge.

Michael grunts quietly as he stands with her still in his arms and heads to the bathroom. He sits her down on the closed toilet and starts a bath for her. He crouches in front of her and looks up. He wordlessly tucks his fingers in the hem of her shirt and she lifts her arms, letting him slide it off of her. He helps her to her feet and gets her shorts down before he strips down to his boxers.

He picks up a comb and sets it on the rim of the tub then kicks his underwear off to sink down in the vanilla and rose scented bath water. Liz gives him a weak, exhausted smile back as she drops her panties on the floor and joins him.

She relaxes back against him, tears still making their way down her face. Michael starts to wet her hair then silently picks up her shampoo. He lathers up her hair then rinses. After that, he gets conditioner in her hair then the comb, letting it sit in the strands as he works out the many, many tangles and knots.

"I don't deserve you." She mumbles, her eyes closed to keep tears in, her knees pulled up to her chest. Michael just keeps combing through her hair. "I've been so nasty to you but here you are-"

"I just love you." He says, carefully picking through a knot. "I know you'd do the same thing for me if I's feelin' the same way." She nods, sniffling quietly. "After this, I'm gonna get you in clean clothes and under fresh bed sheets." He rinses out her conditioner and she lays back against him, pulling his arms around her in a hug from behind.

Somehow, Liz dozed off in the tub against Michael. He let her rest for a while until the water got cold. He carefully maneuvers his way up to get her up and dried off. He hands her clothes he picked up from his drawers and lets her get dressed while he strips the bed.

Liz stands in the doorway, watching him change the sheets. She grabs his hand to stop him, his dark eyes meet her dark eyes. "Will you lay with me?"

His heart nearly leaps out of his chest. He's been sleeping on the couch downstairs or the bed in the neighboring bedroom, sometimes against the wall across from their bedroom door but Liz doesn't know that. He's been giving her the space she's been wanting while staying close in case she needed something.

Without a second thought, he's laying down under the clean sheets with his arm draped over his girlfriend's waist. She pulls his arm tighter around her and he gets the hint, holding her tight with his face buried in the back of her neck.

Right On The Money Honey - Michael HardyWhere stories live. Discover now