More than just us (Michael Afton x Reader)

14 - Problematic

Michael's pov

I sat in my car, after I dropped off Camelia home and going for a long drive. I found myself, alone, struggling for to breathe with a tightness in my throat as everything around me spun with my chest tightened.

Camilla brought up good questions before she left my car. Why was I so adamant about not reporting what we saw? There were so many reasons, we'll lose our jobs for trespassing, correction she'll lose her job. What was the likelihood of the police believing that we didn't do it? We knew one of the victims, a co-worker, it's the stay think as missing reports and at a location similar to the diner and the pizzeria. There were many things pointing my way, that it might of well have always been me. Isn't that what everyone wanted? Someone to blame to get it over with.

I stopped out of my car, outside of my father's home. I didn't know why I drove here, but I felt like I'd find something that would set my mind at ease. All that I needed to do was to hold it together, hold it all perfectly together. I couldn't. The sight rotted my head, flickering all the other tragedies. Today's event, Elizabeth, the disappearances, Fritz, Charlie, my younger brother. How can't I escape this consuming feeling in my chest? A pain greater than anything physical pain I have even endured. I couldn't go home to (y/n), pretend I was fine and when she knew me enough to know what I was doing, but the way she just so casually asked max to remove his pants had me riddled up.

I took in a deep breath before letting it all go as I stepped to the front door. Things in my head started clicking in place. The more and more I reviewed everything, the more I tried to get out of the idea that I was the reason, but why and how? How was I at fault when I was never the one that did anything? It all ached for every part of me to even think about it. To the back of my mind it goes until I can solidly prove that gut curdling feeling.

I knocked firmly onto the door, taking deep breaths and calming my nerves with the wait. Nothing bad was to happen.

My mother answered the door in her silk sleep wear. She having a lazy day, it seemed, with her nails recently painted and hair wrapped in a towel, but she was clearly in the middle of doing her makeup.

"Oh, Michael, what a nice surprise. I wasn't expecting you to come over." She looked at me, smiling. "I was just in the middle of getting ready."

"Where are you going?" I raised a brow, knowing she didn't go out much unless it was to check on me. Even then, she didn't get all dolled up. Maybe Roselyn was talking her out to the party. I doubt that, though.

"Well, if you need to know, I'm going on a date."

"That's lovely. Can I talk to father?" I asked, not even going to talk to my mother about her private life. It was weird.

"Oh why? Come in, I'll put the kettle on, so make yourself at home. Sweetheart. I'm so glad you are here, because I'm going to call since you never tried to contact me about what Sunday."

I stepped inside, patting my mother's shoulder. "Not happening." I went straight upstairs to my father's office, knowing he'd be there.

"Father." I barged into the office. That doubled as his bedroom, now, with pillows, a blanket on the floor and the chair that held his work clothes. He was wearing his best blouse, that I rarely seen he wore. Despite being causally well dressed, he remained at his desk.

He sat buried in his work, with a lovely pen Elizabeth gifted for his birthday before her death, aka I stole for her to give to him. That was the first we gave a crap about birthdays, and mother shooed us to get gifts for him. He never used the pen until Elizabeth's death.

He didn't even look to see who walked into the room, just Mhm escaped him like always. Always busy, always working, always uninterested in anyone but himself and his goals. I wasn't having it. Not now. Not going to be Mhm, when this was important.