A/N Toxic Mikey. Age gap.
THE RELATIONSHIP THAT YOU AND MIKEY had were a good one, but it wasn't rare for the two of you to get into fights. He was so obviously broken and constantly looked down on, but what you hated was that he never stood up for himself.
He let bad things happen to him as if he deserved it, when he really didn't. After all, the way the two of you met was with him helping you out. Your backpack had gotten stolen from a man dashing by on a motorcycle, and he chased the burglar with his own.
You learned he was two years and a half older than you, and the two of you soon started dating. It was mostly you leading the relationship, because he truly couldn't do anything by himself.
He worked part time at a convenience store but mostly worked at a tattoo parlor. He had a few tattoos on himself, and his hair was dyed blonde, for some reason. Though, he didn't really seem to care for his looks because his roots were growing in.
He was stoic most of the time, and so were you. You weren't very fun to be around, as you were told by your classmates. You were quiet, but not in the introverted way.
You just didn't talk unless you were given a reason to, and you weren't very fascinated with the idea of making friends, either. You got good grades at school, but on the flip side, you were crumbling apart. Your parents were divorced, and your mother was a hooker who was never home.
You never complained because she nonetheless paid for your school and the bills.
Nobody knew you had a boyfriend. I mean, it wasn't important for anybody to know. You weren't exactly mean, either.
Right now, Mikey and you were in a fight. You have gotten into an argument about how Mikey needs to stop looking down on himself, and he had raised his voice at you and told you that it was unneeded care, when in reality, as his girlfriend, it was normal to care for him. You hadn't texted him since and he hadn't even called you. You missed him, but you stood your ground.
It was after school when you saw a group of girls that didn't particularly like you, standing in front of the school gates and muttering amongst themselves, pointing and giggling at a man standing a bit far away from them.
He had bruises on his face and a bandaid on his jaw, wearing a shirt and a button up blue shirt over it, with baggy jeans, leaning against the familiar motorcycle.
You had rolled your eyes, sighing as you completely ignored him and tried to walk home. Unexpectedly, he caught up to you quickly, grabbing your arm tightly and forcing you to turn to look at him.
Again, nothing. He was expressionless, as always. Your face showed an obvious look of annoyance, your eyebrows furrowed.
A few people had started to look your way, and the group of girls were nonchalantly scoffing and shaking their heads at you in disgust - and jealousy. Again, you, a model student, was being stopped by a guy who looked like the baseline of a "bad guy".
He had said nothing as he stared into your eyes, and you didn't waver, glaring back at him, getting annoyed by the minute. You shook your arm out of his grasp, before crossing your arms. "What?" You spat, raising your eyebrows in an attempt to tick him off. His blank stare turned into a glare.
"Stop acting stupid. Come on." He huffed, taking your hand into his and attempting to pull you towards his bike. You quickly ripped your hand away, stepping back. He sighed and turned to look at you. "Leave me alone. I'm going home." You mumbled, turning to leave.
"Oi." He called, making you stop abruptly. His tone was angry, and this was one of the first times he would actually get genuinely frustrated with somebody. As you heard his footsteps near you, you turned your head to face him.
He craned his neck, his face close to yours. It wasn't anything romantic. In fact, it was more of an act like he was riling you up on purpose. "When are you going to stop acting like a child, miss high schooler?" His voice was harsh as he stared dead into your eyes, his face actually kind of scaring you.
You frowned, your feelings averting from being mad to feeling ashamed. He cringed at seeing how quickly your expression changed, his guilt building up inside of him. Frustrated at himself for being the cause of your sulking, he raked his fingers through his hair, pushing his bangs out of his face and sighed.
Without saying another word, he grasped your hands, gently this time. He pulled your to his bike, with you following. You were quiet, looking down the whole time.
