shit.
fuck.
woops.
well you see, after my little getaway, i arrived 'home'.
or what i'm forced to call mine.
"pennylane, i know you have problems and crap and all that but i'm tired of this! go to you're room, and don't sneak out, please!" my father exclaimed.
"i mean, i guess?" i rolled my eyes.
"piece of shit child."
my father whispered thinking i was out of ear shot.
"thanks dad, you're not too bad yourself!" i barked with sarcasm.
slamming my door shut, i sunk down, another set of chokes stealing away from my mouth.
quivering, i was shaking with so much anxiety.
taking deep breaths, as my therapist told me to do so, if i was having a nervous breakdown.
knowing my house did not have stairs, i snuck out, defying my father yet again.
i ran wherever my feet took me, i just needed to escape for another while.
i've learned that escaping is part of being human, it's part of my condition.
addiction and habits are two completely different things.
i have a habit of running away,
but my addiction isn't that i run away,
it where i run too.
day after day, night after night, i always seem to fall back to the covered cafe with elderly couples seated in it.
the breakfast cafe, cliche name, but its the closest to peace i could obtain,
it almost felt like home,
almost.
a piece was still tethered away, still missing.
i myself, do not know what piece is missing, but i always contemplated finding out.
"hi garret!" i waved to the manager, more a friend than just a figure.
"hi penny! haven't seen you in a week, thought you were a daily!" he joked.
"you know i got places to be, parents to defy! i'm a busy gal!" i bantered on.
he laughed and i proceeded to my usual seat, but a lean figure occupied it.
"excuse me." i spoke to him.
"i'm not even in you're way." he replied.
oh
my
lord
jesus
christ
are you fucking serious, him again.
"no, this isn't happening." i backed away.
the multi coloured lad turned to face me and my insides turned.
"pennylane, fancy seeing you here."
"for the love of pancakes, why do you seem to be everywhere i am?" i pressed.
"pancakes really? i probed you to be more of a waffle type!" he attempted to make me laugh.
"can you please just sit somewhere else, this is my seat, the doodles on it are evidence." i reasoned.
"sit with me." he stated.
knowing better that to let my anger et the best of me i sighed a heavy sigh, rolled my eyes, and took the seat in front of him.
oh shit, i didn't even ask for his name.
the fuck he knows mine, and i didn't even tell it to him straight up.
"what's your name?" i asked.
"michael, but other people just call me sexgod69 for short." he deadpanned.
i choked on my saliva and started to laugh.
genuinely laugh.
"i give you props michael, that was great!" i didn't even try to hide my growing smile.
"pennylane, if only you realised how much that smile could start a wildfire."
michael whispered more to himself than to me.
yet, i heard every single word, and i swore.
the wildfire he spoke, started to dance with flames inside me.
-
a/n
oh look i updated at 1am in the morning
YOU ARE READING
pennylane. - michael clifford
Fanfiction"he was a shitty person, i was also a shitty person, living in a shitty place. and we made the everlasting mistake of thinking we could fix each other." i spilled to the stranger next to me. "it's a fucked up world, filled with fucked up people, you...
