Michael just laughed. I didn’t see what was funny. If you know someone’s name, you aren’t stragners. He’s got an odd sense of humor, or maybe my logic wasn’t the normal way to think. I shrugged at my thoughts, and his laughing.
We soon got to my apartment, soaking wet. I quickly unlocked my door and stepped inside. Michaels clothes smelled of rain, cigarette smoke, and perfume. Probably mine. I’ll throw them in the wash tonight. Michael stood, looking around. His eyes wandered around my walls, looking at the pictures, and decorations. I felt slightly insecure about him looking at my home. It’s not everyday I have a guy in my house, that would be staying the night.
"Um make yourself at home. The spare bedroom is last door on the left down.bathroom is next to it. Food in the kitchen..blah blah. I'm gonna put your clothes in the wash." I trailed off walking into the laundry room. Michael followed me. It seems he was a bit uncomfortable himself, looking at him standing in the doorway. I glanced up at him not saying anything. His eyes looked tired, and detached-- like he hasn't slept for days. It worried me. I'm a kind-hearted girl, if you can't tell, and Michael looked terrible.
"Can you show me where your cups and shit are, I need some water.." He asked, softly. Nodding softly, I put his clothes ontop of the washer and walked into the kitchen. I opened a cabinet next to the sink on the right side.
"Cups,plates and bowls in this cabinet. The one on the left side is cereal and boxed food. Snacks in the pantry over there and the basic foods are in the rest of the cabinets. Help yourself." Michael nodded at me, looking me over.
“For such a tiny girl, you sure do have a lot of food.” My heart almost broke into a million pieces. About two weeks ago, my boyfriend of about 3 years left me. He wasn’t the best boyfriend, but he loved me and I loved him. He lived with me for a while, and when he left me...he moved out. I just shrugged at his comment, walking into the laundry room again. I put his clothes into the wash, and folded some of my clothes. I heard footsteps going down the hallway, opening a door. I peeked out the door, seeing michael walk into the spare bedroom.
The rest of the night was quiet. Michael sat in the spare room, watching some tv show, while I sat in my room, reading. When morning rolled around, I got up around 7 or 8 and made breakfast for the two of us. I was used to making breakfast for two; It made my mind ease a little bit, knowing that I got to make breakfast for two. At 8:30, Michael came walking out of the bedroom, in just his boxers. “Morning.” I greeted.
“Mhm.” he grunted. I shook my head setting a plate down for him. He looked at it, raising an eyebrow. “What’s this?” He asked, even though it was achingly obvious.
“Its breakfast. Thought I’d be nice and make you some food..”
“Thanks...I guess. Its not gonna kill me is it?”
I scoffed, turning away from him to pour myself a glass of chocolate milk. He laughed at my reaction, as he began to eat. I sat down, across from him, watching him eat. He ate slow, like he didn’t want to eat. This also worried me, it also caught my curiosity. Michael looked skinny, almost bone thin, like he didn’t eat much at all. I didn’t want to ask about it
