catfish // mgc

☼ t h i r t y - n i n e ☼

/// decided to update from my phone again sns but wOW look at that cute little cupcake!!! ///

I woke up the next morning to the sun beaming into the room... the birds happily chirping away... and the loudest freaking snore I've ever heard in my life in my left ear.

I smiled and pried my eyes open, squinting at the brightness. I sighed contently and stretched, then yawned and attempted to rub the sleep from my eyes. I rolled over to face the snoring man that was fast asleep in bed next to me, and smiled even wider.

Michael had both of his hands tucked underneath the pillow with his mouth ajar, with the slightest bit of drool rolling out. I softly giggled, moving some of his hair out of his face to admire him for a few more seconds. I stared at his scars, frowning a bit. I touched them lightly and he flinched and rolled over, sighing before another loud snore erupted from him.

I found Karen roaming the kitchen with the a tan apron on and the smell of breakfast foods put me on cloud nine.

"Good morning, Mae," she said in a chirpy voice, not even turning around. I swear this woman has eyes on the back of her head.

"Morning," I replied with a smile, plopping down on a bar stool. "Smells amazing."

She turned to give me a smile, then went back to work. "French toast with eggs and sausage. Is that okay?"

"Sounds good," I said with a yawn. I rubbed my eyes again. "You didn't have to cook anything, Mrs. Clifford. I would have been fine with a bowl of cereal."

"Nonsense," she waved me off, whipping around and setting a plate full of food in front of me. My stomach growled at the sight. "And please, call me Karen."

I smiled in reply and began digging in, practically moaning at how oddly good it was for just french toast and eggs.

I was about to compliment Karen on her fabulous breakfast meal when Michael plopped down in the seat next to me. He yawned loudly and leaned his head on my shoulder. His mom turned around and smiled at the sight before placing a plate in front of him.

"How come she gets sausage and I don't?" He complained, stealing one off of my plate.

"Don't make me stab you with my fork, Michael," I threatened lowly so his mom wouldn't hear. But she chuckled, telling me she heard anyway. Michael just gave me a sly look before shoving the entire sausage patty in his mouth. I rolled my eyes.

"Hush Michael," Karen scolded, putting some on his plate and giving me another one.

"Thank you," I smiled at her and stuck my tongue out at Michael. He kicked me with his foot and I shot him a warning glare, preparing my fork.

"Keep your hands and feet to yourself, Michael," Karen mused as she wiped down the counters. See? Eyes on the back of her head.

"So what are we doing today?" I asked him once his mom meandered out of the kitchen.

But he just looked at me with a very mischievous smile.

----

"Michael, where the heck are we going?"

I huffed (and puffed), mentally cursing the fact that I decided to wear leggings today seeing as they now had a million and two holes in them from all the branches that had caught me (I couldn't see but I was pretty sure since I could feel a slight breeze). Although I was glad I wore my combat boots and not my flip flops like I had originally wanted (but Michael wouldn't let me), my feet were beginning to hurt.

Michael had apparently decided to drag me on a secret mission of some sort (he literally blind folded me when we got in the car so I couldn't see where we were headed)(not that I would have known anyway since I've never been to Australia before). After sitting quietly in the car - and listening to Michael quietly sing songs I've never heard of - for about 30 minutes, I was beginning to get anxious.