twisted // michael clifford au

2.5

shades - yellow ostrich

shitty miolet edit in media tab

Violet's POV

"Um, I'm driving myself." I lied to Kate, who called me as I finished getting ready. "It's a big house. If you don't stay by my side we'll lose each other, especially if I'm drunk." "I'm hanging out with Bea, you know that." I didn't mention Michael. I tried not to bring him up often. "She's so, like, grunge, ya know? Not really our style." I scoffed, "I like her." "I know, I don't see why. You wouldn't spit on those kind of people before." This is where all of our phone calls went, the few that we shared- I promptly found a way to hang up.

I just finished snapping my bra when my door flung open. "I'm read-" "Good God, Michael!" "Sorry!" He put his hands over his eyes. I didn't mind him looking at me in my bra and underwear, as wrong as it sounds. "Why aren't you dressed yet?" He asked. "I was delayed. Stop peeking." "I'm not peeking!" he argued. "Bullshit." I laughed as I wiggled into my jeans. This was only my second party since the accident, the first I was traumatically Kate's designated driver. Michael got to hear me rant about it for weeks.

"You look adorable, by the way," I told him as I pulled the black v-neck over my head. "Oh really," "Yes really. I don't see why you're not wearing the tail." "I'm tired of shielding my eyes." "I'm sure you are," I laughed as I put my jacket on. "You can look now." "You look cute." "That's all I get?" "You don't like it when I compliment you," he replied. "You're right, I don't. Let's go." I grabbed my hat and phone and headed toward the door. I didn't like Michael complimenting me because I knew it was in a friendly way. I would always want it to mean something more.

"I guess I'll be driving us back," I said as I put my hat and open fingered gloves on. "I'm not gonna get drunk and leave you by yourself." "I have Bea." I replied. "Right," he shrugged, tapping his fingers on the wheel.

"Bea, get our picture." I told her, as I pulled Michael beside me. We all stood around the yard, not quite ready to enter yet. "Why are you looking at us like that?" He asked her. "No reason," she smiled as the camera flashed.

Michael's POV

"Violet!" A high pitched voice squealed. We hadn't even entered the fucking party yet and she was already being taken away by them. "Let me go get rid of her. Stay here." She put her hand on my arm as she rushed toward the house. Her touch was like a drug. "Why the fuck do you have that stupid ass grin on your face?" I asked Bea. "I don't have any grin." she tried hiding it. "What the fuck is up?" I asked. "I just can't wait until you guys start dating." "You'll be waiting awhile." I told her, pretending to be looking at something on my phone. "I don't think so." "And why is that?" "I have never met two people more perfect for each other. It is absolutely destiny that you get together." "I don't think destiny would taunt me with a girl who one: has friendzoned me, and two: has a boyfriend." "If that's what you think." she smirked.

"I'm back, finally." Violet approached us. "I don't think she'll be bothering me for the rest of tonight." "Care to share?" Bea asked. "Later." she told her, her voice low. Girls are so weird. "Take this." she handed me a plastic cup, full of God knows what. "What is this?" "Kate was like, "Well before you run off at least get a drink," so I played around with all the shit on the counter and made these." She showed me her cup. It hadn't dawned on me that she hadn't really experienced anything from a party. "Will alcohol affect amnesia?" Bea asked. "I don't think so. But I guess we're about to find out." Violet answered, taking a large drink of the mixture. Her face instantly twisted. "I should be a bartender," she joked. "Luke's on his way," I told them as I read the text from my phone.

After having a few drinks and hanging around with Luke and some old friends, I found Violet again. She had been dancing with Bea, her snapback now turned backwards as if she were going into a Pokemon battle. "Jess and Tate are gonna get some people to play Seven Minutes in Heaven while they wait for the weed to get here, let's go." Bea pulled Violet's arm, and I immediately trailed behind. Call it creepy or just protective, but I wanted to know who she would be spending seven minutes in a room with.

"What are we, twelve?" A guy asked. "I'm not playing beer pong with Irwin and those dicks, and I'm not gonna watch paint dry. This'll be fun, I can tell by our participants." Tate replied. I agreed, but I didn't want him anywhere near Violet. I didn't want any of these guys near her. Now that's she's drinking, I have no choice but to protect her. Her "boyfriend" sure as hell isn't going to.

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well this story is about to lose its chill zone