Internet Friends || Michael Clifford ✓

Chapter 18

Sophie

☼☼☼

"What is it that you wanted to talk about?" I asked, hanging up on Halen immediately without saying goodbye. Halen could wait. I would make anyone wait if it were for Michael.

I put the laptop off to the side and Michael sat down next to me, immediately pulling me to him. He wrapped his arms around me as if he didn't want me to get upset and storm off; it had happened before but it was more of me hanging up on Skype with him or not texting back. Now that we were next to each other, in person, it was impossible to avoid my problems with just a click of a button.

"Why did you lie about changing?" Michael asked and I rolled my eyes.

Was this really the only thing he wanted to talk about? I was about to push this boy out of the window if this was seriously all he wanted to talk about.

"It doesn't matter," I huffed. I tried pushing myself out of Michael's arms but his grip only tightened, forcing me to be next to him.

"Why are you avoiding me?" Michael whined, burying his head into the crook of my neck. He placed a soft kiss at the base of my neck and I bit back a whimper. I hated the effect he had on me.

I was frustrated at the moment and cuddly Michael was ruining my mood. I wanted to be mad but how the fuck can you be mad at cuddly Michael?

"Please tell me what's wrong," Michael begged and I rolled my eyes again. Couldn't he tell I was just in a bad mood?

"Nothing's wrong. I'm just a bit annoyed," I pouted, trying yet again to push him off but Michael wouldn't let me.

Was I really that out of shape? All Michael does is play video games and hold a guitar and yet I couldn't push him off.

"Please, tell me Soph. I don't like seeing you mad," Michael said pouting and I felt guilty but I was still mad.

"Nope," I said turning away from looking into his gaze, "I'm not mad. I promise."

"Pinky promise?"

"I pinky promise."

Michael grabbed my hand and linked my pinky with his. I giggled at him showing his inner child and Michael chuckled as well.

"Can you tell me what you wanted to tell me?" I asked, looking at Michael.

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it," he said shrugging his shoulders.

"Don't do that. Don't shut yourself off from me. Tell me," I demanded, well, more like begged.

"It's nothing," Michael said shrugging his shoulders.

"Dammit Michael, tell me."

"You like me," he said bluntly.

He didn't bother warning me about what we were going to talk about, I wish he had. My jaw would've been touching the bed if it hadn't been for Michael holding my face in his grasp so I wouldn't look away.

"Yeah, I-I do. As a friend," I stuttered, averting my eyes from him.

Why did he think it was okay to come barging into my-his room and make such of a crazy assumption? Which technically was true but I wasn't going to tell him that.

"I heard you talking to Halen, you like me," Michael said more smugly.

"I do not like you, not one bit. I don't like like you," I said.

I still wasn't looking him in the eyes. I didn't want to. I would not be able to speak coherently if I did.

"I can prove that you like me," Michael said.