Michael was unusually quiet and Ashton knew this was never a good thing. He had come in smelling of smoke and when Ashton asked about it, the small boy only shrugged. His curly haired friend frowns when he sees a pack of cigarettes stuffed haphazardly into the back pocket of his jeans yet lays the conversation to rest.
Michael couldn't stop thinking of the way Shawn had spoken to him; like he was dirt and nothing more. He couldn't get the feel of his rough hands on his wrist and harsh slap to naturally flushed cheeks out of his head. Michael lays in bed, tears collecting in his beautiful green eyes and muffles a sob in the fabric of his pillow. Although he tries to keep quiet, Ashton can still clearly hear the boy's cries and after a few moments of this, he decides to comfort him.
"Mikey, what's going on?" He asks softly after tiptoeing inside.
"Bad day at work," Michael whimpers. Ashton runs his fingers through his friend's hair soothingly which urges Michael to continue. "Shawn came in and he took me to the back alley. He made me blow him. Said it was either that or beat me," His voice is void of all emotion which, along with his terrifying words, makes Ashton's blood run cold. "He's pulled this shit before. He raped me a few times when we were still together. I didn't tell you because you're worried enough as it is,"
His voice was leveled and even, as if he were talking about the weather over a cup of coffee instead of telling him how his ex boyfriend sexually abused him which makes goosebumps rise on Ashton's tanned skin. "Michael..." He starts, eyes wide. "I had no idea. I'm so sorry,"
"I don't want your pity," Michael replies, breaking away from his friend's gaze. "It's fine. I'm fine. Everything's fine," He says yet the two of them in no way was it fine at all.
***
Michael blocks himself off from everyone for the next few days. He's off work so that wasn't a problem and he simply ignores Luke's calls and pushes Ashton away each time the boy tries to discuss things. He stays in his room, barely eating or sleeping, not having showered and avoiding mirrors at all costs. He already knew what he'd see; a broken boy with ghostly skin and lifeless eyes.
When he finally does manage to get up and shower, it's after Ashton had left for work and since Luke had stopped trying to contact him. He turns the water boiling hot and strips from his clothes, stepping in and allowing the water to bead down his back, wetting his hair. He scrubs at his skin, enjoying the sharp sting of the heat and the way his nails scraped at his soiled skin. Pain was better than nothing. Anything was better than being numb.
Michael doesn't notice he's crying until his breath comes out in stammered breaths. He pulls at his damp hair, gritting his teeth and mutters, "Stop crying. Stop fucking crying," into the harsh shower spray. He beats his palms to his forehead, frustrated with himself. All he wanted was for these dark memories to fade.
Next thing he knows, he's sitting on the floor of the tub, water spraying his face with aching knuckles. When he looks down he finds them bleeding an angry red and he gets up, stepping out of the shower and stops the bleeding before getting dressed. He figured that he might've felt a bit better after his shower but he couldn't have been more wrong. Michael gets into his car then and drives to the store, running his bruising hand through his still damp hair as he walks down the aisles. He has an armful of snacks by the time he's checking out and ignores the judgemental stare of the cashier as they scan his items.
The drive back home is short and once Michael is there, he takes a seat at the kitchen table, dumping out his snacks and grabs the first thing he can get his hands on, shoveling the sugary food into his mouth without hesitation. When he's halfway through his mountain of treats, he has tears caking his cheeks and his stomach is screaming. He thinks back to Shawn's words a few days prior. "I never liked chubby boys," Did that mean Michael had to gain weight in order to become undesirable to him?
This thought only causes Michael to sob harder, shoving the wrappers to the ground, resting his head in his hands. He couldn't get fat. That wasn't an option at this point. Michael whimpers, wiping his eyes before taking out his phone and calling the blond he had been avoiding. Luke picks up on the second ring and Michael says, "I need you to come over before I stick my fingers down my throat because that's all I want to do right now," without letting Luke even greet him.
"Of course, love. Stay where you are, yeah? I'll be there in a few minutes," Hearing Luke's voice was enough to calm Michael down slightly and when he asks for him to stay on the line, Luke instantly agrees. The blond arrives after a few minutes, as promised and scoops Michael up into his arms. He had completely disregarded all of the food wrappers littering the table and floor and the bruises on his knuckles, only focusing on carding his hands through the small boy's hair which Michael appreciated greatly.
"Thank you," He whispers softly into Luke's shirt.
The lanky boy only smiles, kissing the top of Michael's head and says, "No problem, sweetheart," as he holds on tighter.
---
This chapter really sucked and it wasn't even 1k words plus I haven't updated in ages. I'm so sorry I've been slacking lately. I've been having a hard time and have just been trying to keep myself breathing. That sounds dramatic but my mind is always racing and I can gaurentee you that if I hadn't thrown my razor out months ago I would've relapsed by now. I've had too many breakdowns to count. Michael was sort of the embodiment of me this chapter I guess.
I just feel like a failure. To you guys but also in general. I'm not in college atm, I broke things off with a girl who was absolutely lovely to me just bc I'm constantly a trainwreck and didn't want to burden her with it and I gained 2 pounds. It doesn't sound like a lot but to me it feels like a thousand. I'm in the triple digits now. My goal weight was 93lbs but now that's never going to happen bc I have no self control whatsoever and I'm just a fat pig. I'm just a failure at life. I feel like I'm not fit for it sometimes. I'm a fuckup and don't do anything right. I'm so sorry I'm letting you all down.
Much love.
-Shianne xx
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Cigarettes *Muke* #Wattys2016
Fanfiction"Y-You should really stop smoking," The voice was soft, harmless and caused Luke to look up, meeting a pair of jade eyes. "Quitting is harder than it looks, sweetheart," Luke mutters, kicking the gravel under his feet. "Why do you do it?" Michael a...
