eighteen » l.h

41.

MY CRUSH KNOWS THAT I LIKE HIM I HATE LIFE

"Why the fuck are you groaning?"

"I miss Calum."

"Shut the fuck up."

"Why?"

"I'm mad at you."

"For what?"

"You guys were about to fuck on my bed!"

"We were only kissing!" I yell back at Michael.

"Yeah okay, his hand was in between your legs. That was seriously only kissing, right?"

"Yes." I simply said, resulting in him throwing one of his pillows at me. We were currently situated on the couch, our blankets spread out over us and our numerous amount of pillows scattered all over the living room, only two of them being used.

"Stop being such a little bitch, Michael."

"I wouldn't be acting like this if I hadn't found my best friends on the verge of having sex on my bed!"

"Michael, this was four days ago. Let it go."

"You want me to let it go? Why are you repeating the words Calum said to you while fingering you?" He snaps and I gasp, abruptly standing up from the couch and stomping over to him, his feet immediately going to my stomach and pushing me back.

"Stop being such a little pussy and let me fight you."

"No, you're going to pull my hair." He said through gritted teeth as I tried to move foward, despite the blockade his feet were creating.

"Apologize."

"Who do you make me out to be? I'm not fucking apologizing." He said as he gripped my wrists, preventing me from grabbing a fist-full of his hair.

"Fucking apologize, Michael."