Robbers » Punk Michael Clifford

002

"I can't get over you

You left your mark on me."

-Hold On, We're Going Home by Drake

—

There was so much light, everything was so bright. Too bright. Too much sunshine; and what was that noise? That incessant shrill ringing. Too much noise. It stopped, much to Violets relief, only to start again. Violet groaned, and blindly felt around until she felt her phone.

"What?" Violet growled into the receiver, much too tired and hung-over for this.

"Good morning, Sunshine."

"What the fuck, Michael?" Violet asked, her voice slightly too high, "How did you get my number?"

"I got it last night, after I took you home." Michael stated, matter-of-factly.

"Michael, quit screwing around. I don't have time for this, I'm hung-over and tired so can you please just tell me what you want?" She snapped.

"Yeah, I figured you'd be pretty hung-over so I left a present beside your bed."

Violet glanced beside her bed and saw a glass of water and 2 Advil, "You are a god," She said quickly before downing them.

There was muffled laugher on the other end of the line.

"Did you actually take me home? I don't remember." She asked.

He cleared his throat, "Yeah. Yeah, I did."

"Oh," Violet paused, "Well, Thanks, I guess."

"I have another present for you. It's outside. Look out the window."

Violet very ungracefully rolled out of bed, almost tripping on her own feet in the process, and stumbled to the window. Grabbing hold of the frame to steady herself, she peered out the window.

And there stood Michael - in all his punk, tattoo and messy hair glory. He was leaning against a motorbike and Violet thought he couldn't have looked better. She let out a breath she didn't realise she was holding in. He smirked and waved at her.

"I'm not letting you in, Michael." She laughed into the phone.

"Okay." Then the line went dead.

Michael started walking further towards the house.

Violet hurried to her body length mirror to make sure she looked okay because she knew Michael would get in, one way or another. She was wearing an oversized Ramones shirt with black lace underwear and matching bra that she was wearing at the club last night. Michael must have put the shirt on for her so she didn't have to sleep in her dress. She quickly brushed her tangled hair and wiped off the mascara that was smudged under her eyes and quickly swiping some more on. There was a grunt and a loud thud as Michael swung in the window.

"You- I- how did you get in?" Violet said quickly with wide eyes.

"The window, obviously." Michael rolled his eyes.

"It's a two storey house, Michael."

He sucked on the inside of his cheek and stuffed his hands in his skinny jeans pockets, "Yeah, I know," He nodded, "I climbed the tree."

"Oh, um, well okay."

Violet shook her head and sighed, "What do you want, Michael? Why are you here?"

He took a step towards her and shrugged, "Wanted to see you."

"I've known you for less than 24 hours and already have my number, my home address and then you come over at some ungodly hour of the morning because you 'wanted to see me', Michael, what the fuck?"