walls ✰ m.c.

Chapter 26

The blaring of my alarm woke me slowly. I could tell I hadn't got much sleep last night since I usually wake up in a heartbeat. I rubbed my eyes, letting them adjust to the pitch black room as I sat up. I noticed an empty glass to my left and an empty bed to my right. The memories of last night washed over me, leaving me with one too many questions. In all honesty though, I wasn't too sure if I wanted to face Michael. Well not necessarily him, but rather what he had to say. A million things ran through my head of what he could say, but I didn't know what he will say.

I pushed it all aside and carefully walked towards the door and opened it gently. I looked around, making sure he wasn't in sight and entered the bathroom. I flicked on the switch and was stunned by the sudden brightness. My eyes squinted at my messy appearance which I quickly fixed as I noticed I had to be at work in half an hour which was something I was not looking forward to. Don't get me wrong, I loved my job, but not at 7am.

I took a breath and tip toed downstairs, hoping not to come in any contact with Michael. I peered around the kitchen and living room and didn't spot him so I guess he had left, maybe to pick up groceries again. I smoothed out my clothes and snatched a banana before heading out. I stepped out of the door backwards, silently shutting it and grabbing the key from over the door frame and locking it. I spun around and the sight of Michael staring over his shoulder at me came into sight.

He was leaned over the wooden railing that was neatly painted white. His forearms rested on the surface and he had his weight shifted into one leg while the other was bent. He turned back around to face the open view in front of the house, letting the smoke from his nearly gone cigarette blow over his shoulder.

"I thought you meant it when you said were done with that." I said, finally breaking the tension. He flicked the ashes of the end and looked down, casually shaking his head,

"I don't mean a lot of things." He sighed. I couldn't quite grasp what he was saying so I glanced down at my feet awkwardly without giving a reply. "So, uh," He shuffled his feet to where he was now propped up by his elbows and was sort of sunken down. "I want to talk about last night..." He trailed off, taking a quick drag before putting it out.

"It was a mistake." I answered for him as we finally caught each others eyes. He looked away quickly and back down to the ground. "I get it." I said sheepishly.

I felt more embarrassed at the fact that I had thought this would've worked out more than anything. I knew I should've just taken him straight home with no word. Now it seemed so difficult to talk to him, to even look at him. He knew everything that happened the night before. He knew what he said, what I said. As much as I didn't want to believe it, I had to. I had to let this be the final straw.

He scratched his nose once before glimpsing back up at me. His mouth opened to say something, but nothing came out. I shook my head reluctantly and crossed my arms over my chest. He appeared emotionless in the way he looked at me. His gaze was heavy which was something he only did when he wanted to do when he wanted to talk.

"Yeah. A mistake." His voice was hoarse and quiet which broke me. I could tell he had something else on his mind, whether it was about the situation or another one, but I hated seeing him like this. I could tell her was bothered, but as of now I didn't care what he was bothered about anymore.

"I should probably get going." I whispered as I subtly nodded towards my car.

"Yeah." He stammered quietly. We exchanged eye contact once more before I hesitantly stepped down the stairs. I walked quickly towards my car, wanting to leave his presence as soon as possible.

I felt dumb. Out of all the anger and sadness that I used to feel, now I just feel dumb. The whole ride to my work was silent. No radio, no texts or phone calls, just my mind swarming with the idea of how stupid I felt. I was embarrassed and upset and I honestly didn't think I'd be able to face Michael again. It sounded over dramatic, but there was nothing worse than loving someone who didn't love you back.