|COMPLETED|
"Michael Langwood has Wattpad," I repeated and smirked at him, trying not to laugh.
"I told you it's NOT my account," he grunted, "It's a friend's who stopped using it so he passed it to me and -"
"Shhh," I pressed my finger on his lips...
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A\N: The picture on the media is the cover for Michael's book. How does it look? :)
The end of this book is now approaching fast, so hope you enjoy this chapter!
And don't forget to comment your thoughts! Thank you ♡
_______
Twenty five:
The park was quieter this time.
I shut the car door behind me and strolled across the path which curved aimlessly between the trees.
The air was damp, signalling the beginning of Spring. I could spot the first glimpses of flowers onto the tree's crowns, their fragile petals gently opened outwards.
Their pastel colours made the park look less sinister. Even more alive.
I could feel the sun's warmth against my back as it descended across the sky, its rays like a soft blanket settled over me.
I took the next turn and entered the park, my feet catching a higher pace as I didn't want to be late this time.
I passed by the empty benches and scanned the vast tree-filled area for a potential Michael.
The image of the last time I'd been here flashed in my mind; seeing Michael and Marie Elizabeth kissing on the bench, birds singing and flowers blooming all over them, embracing their new-found eternal love.
Okay, maybe without the last part.
My stomach tied in knots at the thought. I shook the image from my head, and continued my walk.
Luckily, I caught a glimpse of Michael in the eastern part of the park not too far away, his earphones tucked in his ears as his eyes were trained to his phone.
I sighed in relief. He was alone.
I turned in my heels and headed towards him, my gaze never leaving his face.
He seemed oblivious to his surroundings.
And he was definitely oblivious to my very own self, slowly approaching him. His eyes were still fixed to his phone screen. As I got closer to him, I could hear the guitar solo blasting through his earphones.
I quickly creeped up behind him and hid before the bench. I counted to three in my head, and then placed my hands on his shoulders, yelling a loud, "Boo!"
Michael's reaction was indeed worth filming.
He jumped off the bench and took off his earphones, all while screaming in a high pitched voice.
"Jesus, Bree! You scared the bejesus out of me," he said, trying to gain both his breath and his cool back again. He shot me a death glare, which I have to say, did look pretty terrifying.
