paris | madwheeler ♡

3 | drug

" leçon de français "

the sun doesn't rise or set on a specific person, even if it feels like it does. waves don't ripple through ocean water depending on a relationship. time continues on, even when you don't want it to. look at it this way; someone could say they don't believe in romantic feelings towards the same sex. but just because they don't believe in it doesn't make it not there? it's like, saying you don't believe in a mountain. which, doesn't make sense because, well. its a thing. and no one can really change that. the world does not revolve around anyone's feelings.

especially max's.

it's almost been a week since max and mike hooked up, unexpectedly. max was emotionally crushed when she was told mike wheeler is still dating jane byers. but of course, she doesn't show it. she pretends not to care.

max avoided mike every chance she got, therefore they never talked about what happened or what they were going to do about it. but maybe there was nothing to talk about. what happened, happened. there's not much that can change that.

max laid, on her temporary bed, staring at the ceiling. as said, she does not have every many friends, and social media doesn't spark her interests. she still had faint scratch marks on her hand when she flew off her own skate board. they were scarring. not like she cared much though, they're not the only scares she had from skating. she also didn't just have skate scars either, she had mental scars. ones that reflected on her personality. the way she acts. the way she talks, and the way she bottles up her feelings until she explodes.

today was different, maxine wasn't trying to drown out mike wheeler's blaring music. only because he wasn't playing any. today, mike was studying for his french exam, leaving max to listen in on how he poorly speaks the foreign language.

"comment lle-vous?" the boy spoke, with a horrible french accent. max impulsively got up from her bed to help the struggling boy.

"you mean, comment allez-vous? i'm great, thanks for asking." she teased, standing in the door way of the messy room. her arms crossed, and her wavy ginger hair pushed behind her ears.
mike was almost surprised by how fast she could switch between accents.

"i didn't know you knew french." the pretty boy pointed out. he was currently sitting on the floor of his bedroom, french papers laid directly in front of him, scattered everywhere. along with clothes, and other things laying around, he didn't care of clean.

"need some help?" she asked, before stepping deeper into his room. he only nodded as a response. he was a little bit weirded out by her kindness. maybe because it seemed passive aggressive. she's always in a bitchy mood towards him. she pointed out an other line of french, just underneath the first. "mon nom est.." she started, waiting for him to continue.

"mon nom est mike." he tired his best to pronounce correctly, which only left max to smile at his words. french has always been something she's interested in. its more of her guilty pleasure than anything. she never wanted to be known as a hopeless romantic but occasionally it looks that way, and french just seemed, very romantic to her.
"je suis désolé." mike says, quietly. he's not even sure he pronounced the words correctly until she spoke up.

"for what?" she asked. she was sitting on the side of her leg, with her legs bend to the right side of her, supporting her weight on her left arm. she wore gray sweatpants that day. with a black shirt that had some random band logo on it. its the weekend, why would she wear anything else then lazy clothes?

"for everything." mike said, softly. max now knew what he was speaking about. the sex. she wasn't exactly sure why he was apologizing, its not like the sex was bad or anything. though he did use her, in a very horrible way. so i guess that's something to apologize for. but she wasn't very used to being apologized to.
max knew what she was walking into. she didn't say anything, she didn't know what to say, exactly. the moment was silent, it filled the room. mike took a chance and placed his lips on hers. in a way, she was like a drug. he got a taste of her cigarette flavored lips and he was addicted, truly.

he didn't care that it was wrong. he loved the way she took care of herself. he loved her independence. he loved the way she wasn't jane. she wasn't clingy, or overdramatic. she wasn't fake, to the outside world. jane, pretended to like people. she had this fake personality. and max just wasn't like that. the way she expressed herself through simple things was perfect. but the thing is, mike believed max was totally out of his league. he didn't believe he would get to be with a girl like her, not ever.

max didn't part from the kiss, she let it happen. she let most things just happen. especially with mike. she wasn't sure about her feelings towards mike, she had a love-hate relationship with the idea of him, mostly hate. but she couldn't help the fact that she's so drawn to him. once the kiss started to escalate, she pulled away from his lips. leaving him only to bury his head into her neck while she catches her breath.

"we shouldn't.." she breathed out. the only reason she wished to stop was because of jane. she knows he's never going to let her go, meaning maxine would be left behind once again.

he took in her scent as he explored her neck for a second time. her ginger colored hair always smelt nice. he enjoyed the taste of her skin like it was lined with sweet champagne, and sugar. max was now leaning against his bed, while still sitting on the floor. mike continued to kiss behind her ear, sending shock waves down her spine and almost beginning to create a need in between her legs. but even with that need she knows there will be guilt afterwards. maxine gently pushed the boy off her.

"i can't. i'm sorry." she forced herself off the floor, out of mike's reach. "good luck with your french." she said before she left him to be alone.

hi, pls comment i love to read them
- sadie x