Michael Afton x Reader

4am

4am by girl in red is rlly good lmao

pain.

your eyes are bleary and your head is killing you, it's as if your skull is being slowly cracked open under pressure. your limbs feel like they're made of lead, and you can't tell if the added weight is from the massive pile of blankets on top of you or something else.

looking over at the old dusty alarm clock on the nightstand, you see it's 3 in the morning.

why the fuck did I wake up so early. part of you thinks a dream was what had awoken you, but you don't remember anything. if I had a nightmare horrible enough to wake me when I'm hungover, wouldn't I remember that?

water. I desperately need water. water will make the pain go away, right? or at least help my massive migraine... I'll find some ibuprofen too.

you stumble out of your room in compete darkness, relying on feeling the walls to navigate. having the lights on would hurt horribly, plus they might wake Michael.

oh fuck I'm at Michael's house- I don't know where anything is! wasn't there a staircase somewhere? just as you try to remember the layout of his house, you stumble over a carpet and throw your arms in front of you to take most of the damage.

ouch...

your instincts protected your face, but you can feel the rug burn on your elbows, palms and knees. this time, you move slower and look for the stairs with your hands before getting back on your feet.

just tripping was painful enough, I am not falling down the fucking stairs at this ungodly hour. I really hope Michael doesn't wake up right now and see me crawling around on my hands and knees in complete darkness. in my state, I probably look like something outta the twilight zone.

after crawling on the floor like a blind worm for too long, you find the staircase and make your way down to the kitchen cautiously.

you finding a clean glass and filling it with water from the tap, then practically chug the entire thing. tap water isn't the best, but I can't be picky. right now I just need to hydrate and not die from alcohol poisoning. after repeating that twice more. you feel a bit better, although your head hasn't cleared completely. now, your pounding migraine is just a frustrating headache that could be cured with some pain meds.

I think I'll just have to deal with the pain, I'm not going to snoop through Michael's house to find them and I certainly won't wake him up to ask. you think with a sigh.

after standing in the kitchen for a few minutes, trying to decide whether or not to go back to bed, you feel a warm breeze hit your legs. are the windows open?

you can actually see when downstairs, as the yellow street lamps and porch lights can be seen from a distance, illuminating the room a little bit. you glance at all the windows and see they're all shut, so the wind must be coming from someplace else. it's not from the AC or anything, I can tell the difference. is the door open?

you peer around the corner of the kitchen wall to see the front door, worried someone might've broken in. the door is indeed wide open, but you can see Michael's familiar silhouette leaning against the frame. you relax, and quietly walk towards him. he notices you walk up, but doesn't say anything. instead, he wraps one arm around you and pulls you into a gentle hug. you rest your head on his shoulder and follow his gaze looking up at the sky.