all mine | ft. michael clifford

twenty-four;

Dedicated to Chrys because she is the best succulent plant I know. 

Special POV: Ashton Irwin

I cannot put things back together. I cannot put things back together. I cannot put things back together. Things are broken. Things are broken. Things are broken. She's gone away. She's gone away. She's gone away. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone.

Carry me away.

***

MALI'S POV:

We were on the way to the concert and I hadn't been so excited in a long time. I couldn't stop talking, couldn't stop fidgeting, couldn't stop. My whole body felt like it was alive, I felt like I was glowing. Good. I felt good. I'd spent the day seeing the gorgeousness of Portugal and got to finish it off by watching my good friends slay a concert of their own in front of thousands of people. Was there anything better? I couldn't think of a single thing.

"God, Mali – what drugs have you taken?" Luke asked, rolling his eyes from beside me.

I grinned and shot him a wink. "None that you could afford, superstar."

He laughed and squeezed the hand of mine that he was holding. "Name one drug I couldn't afford."

"A drug to make you intelligent?" I offered.

He rolled his eyes yet again at my crappy comeback and his sarcastic demeanour had me wishing I was in love with him – because holy hell, he was me in the form of a male. "Mals, get me the name of that drug and I'll prove to you that I can afford it."

"Fuck off about drugs," Michael interrupted. I froze, smile dropping off my lips like it was never there.

He sat on the other side of Luke and had been silent the whole car ride. In fact, he'd pretty much been silent the whole afternoon. Something was wrong and I didn't know how to reach out to him. He'd respected my privacy throughout every cryptic conversation we'd had; he'd given me my own space, my own time and my own choice in terms of what I chose to tell him about myself and my life. He'd never pressed me, grilled me, got annoyed with me. He was patient and kind.

And I wanted to do the same for him as he'd done for me. Only, I wasn't as patient as he was. I wanted to know as soon as possible so that I could look after him, so that I could fix things. My brain was warring with my heart. Ask him. Leave him. Ask him. Leave him.

"Oi, we're joking," Luke said now, turning to send Mikey a confused smile. "What's up?"

I leaned forward to look at Michael but he was staring straight ahead, lazily shrugging. "Nothing, sorry, didn't mean to sound like a dick."

He looked at me for a second – long enough for me to offer him a reassuring smile – before looking away.

My stomach felt queasy. Surely this wasn't about me kissing him, was it?

Oh god, he didn't see that as me asking him out, did he? Because my hand in Luke's was definitely not going to go down well if he somehow thought we were dating.

I pried my fingers from Luke's, pretending to fiddle with my hair. I'd left it out and Melissa had put waves through it for me, saying that I needed to look hot for my first concert in case the opening support band was cute. I laughed at her and agreed that I hoped they were, even though my eyes only really seemed to search for boys with bright red hair and a smirk so cute it was difficult to both look at him and walk at the same time.