°m
text message
nah.
michael lay in his bed, mouth ajar.
what the fúck kay, how am i supposed to answer that?
i dunno.
-.- thanks.
the lilac-haired aussie was starting to get annoyed as ashton began to snore extremely loud. he had been quiet so far, but now he seemed to be wanting the entire world's attention.
'twas my pleasure.
'twas? what is this? a christmas story?
more like the story of my life.
michael grinned to himself; she had walked right into that one.
the story of my life, i take her home, i drive all night, until she's warm and time, is froooooozen.
shut up.
michael did not answer.
michael?
michael, are you there?
michael???
the australian threw a pillow over his face so he could laugh freely; kaylee's worry made him smile. maybe she did care about him, in some form?
nah, he thought. she's out of my league. (or limit, he added in his head, singing along quietly until luke told him to shut the fúck up.)
yes?
you piece of shit, that's not what i meant.
in his mind he imagined kay sent this while glaring at her small screen. then she had to stop, because the brightness contrasting against the dark room was hurting her eyes. then he wondered why he pictured a dark room. and why he imagined kay.
oh well. it's what you got. :-)
but what if i didn't want it.
eh. sometimes life sucks.
-
michael is so cute i can't even
cry cry cry
