More than just us (Michael Afton x Reader)

4 - Michael's day

Goes who's back!

Me!
Free and got but load of free time

Hasn't been checked for mistakes, this will change later, but it's over 6000 words.
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Sleep wasn't easy to get when the mind fixated on problems that weren't problems, knowing no context and only picking at the insecure area. Even when laying in his bed held a point in line to board of how he hid and stopped me from knowing about basic stuff. He went from being clear about what the problem was to now withholding information, causing a drift to between us. How was I meant to rely on him when he can't manage his own issues and come to me with support? Instead, he went to Roselyn, burying all of his issues with her, in her arms, in the same bed as her. That was what he was like, enjoying the closeness and physical contact to feel loved and worthy. Despite all my worrying, Michael, wet and bare, trudged into his room with only a towel hanging around his awkward hips. Going from the door to his dresser for his work clothes, to the setting up an ironing board, he began his morning activities. Get ready for work.

With an iron from his dresser, he started with his shirt, ironing out all creases of his shirt, carefully with his eyes on what he was doing. The effort he put into his clothes was more effort than he tried living without appearing completely done with it. Never once glancing over to the bed, where I rested, watching him, didn't acknowledge if I was a sleep or not or tried to keep all noise to a minimum.

A hellish cry from his alarm invaded the silent room with a horrid blaring sound, able to disturb anyone from sleep in the worse way possible. It dragged on for too long. Me unable to move and michael refusing to even look this way. Rather listen to sounds of an alarm than look this way. I forced myself up, creeping to the end of the bed and turning it off after 5 minutes of it screeching with ungodly horrors.

I pulled myself up, streching my arms out above my head with clicks of joints. No words uttered, but the sounds of my getting back to the middle of the bed.

"I'm sorry about last night." I gather the encurage to let out the words that harbered in my tightened throat. only a low whisper. I thought long and hard about what was said and if fighting against something I couldn't change was worth destory my relationship over.  I didn't enjoy the idea but it wasn't as worse as it could of been and we could work through the problem if only he told me the truth most of the time and not tell me what is better for him to has plosable deinablity.

"You were going to learn about it anyways." Michael awkwardly sighed, finishing up his shirt and moving onto his trousers. His back was exposed, clearly seeing the sun enough to have his back to seem even coloured and a lot healthier. His left arm had a deep cut.

"What's wrong with your arm?" I asked, keeping my eyes on his upper half of his body, thought taking glaces downwares was have heavy temptation. He lost paisents to be good at ironing his trousers, switching off the the iron and unplugging from the switch.

"Work related injury." He rumaged through his bottom draw, pulling out boxer shorts, slipped them on underneath his towel, keeping his ass and other parts hidden, but from memory his ass was a mighty sighting and how he didn't enjoy when I make compliments about how he had a bigger ass than me. "It's a long story and I felt sorry for the employee who had to save me."

"Be more careful," I rested my body back into the comfort of his bed sheets, that cuddled around me. My eyes were at the ceiling, but kept darting to him, worried about his safety at work. "I rather not have you dying before we get to live a life."

"A life? Like together?" Micheal stood to attention, freezing up with his body tense up. His head slight turned, almost listening close in what I had to say, but never directly set his gaze upon me. Why would he want to look at me? I upset him, embarred him in front of his mother and casted as blanket of doubt on our relationship.