The two of you entered your shared flat together.
Michael had been moody the whole ride home, loosely holding your hand, staring out the window, and only answering you with one word responses. You knew something was up, but you didn't want to call him out in front of his friends, so you talked to Calum the rest of the way back.
When you walked into the living room he pulled his leather jacket off and threw it onto the back of the couch just missing the lamp that sat on the small side table, before storming away, without saying a word. You had dealt with angry Michael before, and you learnt how to confront him about it. In situations like this, it was best for you to let him come to you, rather than to annoy the information out of him, which always made him angrier.
You walked to the bedroom and stripped off your clothes before changing into one of Michael's baggy t-shirts. His clothes were always baggy on you. You kept your underwear on underneath as it was already quite hot in the flat, and Michael tended to be a personal heater at night.
You heard the shower running, so you went to the kitchen and made two cuppa's, something that usually calmed Michael down, or helped him sleep at night.
You walked back to the bedroom, kicking the door open gently with your foot, careful not to spill any of the soup on the carpet. Michael was sitting on the bed when you entered, dressed in only a pair of grey cottons. His now dyed red hair was hanging down over his forehead, droplets of water gliding down his skin. His fringe was covering one of his eyes, and all you wanted to do was to run your fingers through his hair and push it back and away from his face, but you knew better.
"Hi." You said softly, "I made you a cuppa. Your favourite kind, too." You reach out and hand it to him.
"Thanks." He mutters quietly, taking the cup out of your hand, and placing it on the nightstand without taking a sip like he usual does.
He moves his wet hair out of his face before he decides to lay against the headboard, his upper body propped up by the numerous pillows and cushions. He folds his arms across his chest, staring across the room at the painting you had bought him two years ago for his birthday.
You sigh silently as you watch him stare into space, making your way around the bed to your side and place the hot mug on the table before pulling back the silky covers and slipping in underneath them. You grabbed your phone and began to read your twitter mentions, answering some tweets Michael and the boys' fans asked you. You smile at some of the sweet tweets, favouriting one as you hear Michael speak up.
"Why are you so far away from me?" He murmurs, and you turn your head to see him pointing to the space between the two of you.
"Well, you're mad." You explained, shrugging your shoulders.
"Just because I'm mad at you doesn't mean I don't want you close to me." He says, and indicates you to scoot closer so your sides are touching his.
"So, you're mad at me?" You question, raising an eyebrow. "What did I do?" You began to think of something you had said or done to upset him but nothing comes to mind.
"Why don't you ask Calum?" His voice becomes louder slightly.
"Calum?" You had been talking to him a little more than usual lately when you saw each other, but it was just because you were friends. You were friends with all the boys, but Calum and you had more in common. Michael looked at you expectantly, as if he was waiting for you to admit what you did wrong.
"Michael, I have no idea what I did that has anything to do with Calum that made you so mad at me." You groan, sighing deeply.
He growled and leaned over to his nightstand, grabbing his phone off of charge, before entering his password in. You watch him curiously as he opens up his twitter feed, scrolling through his timeline before finding what he was looking for. He clicked on the picture, and passed his phone to you, and you raise your eyebrows at him before looking down to his phone, seeing a picture of Calum and yourself laughing at something. You's seemed to be quite close, but the picture meant nothing to what Michael thought it looked like. You closed the picture and read the caption of the tweet by TMZ reading, "Y/N just can't stay with one band member. She has to have them all."
