Bonding: A Boyf Riends Fanfiction [Completed]

•~five~•

~Jeremy's POV~

I awoke to the sound of crashing thunder. Sitting up, I glanced out the window and was greeted with darkness and rain. Sliding out of the bed, I stumbled out into the hall and made my way toward the kitchen. The light was on, so I suspected Michael was awake. As I walked through the living room, I shot a sideways glance at the clock. It was 8:30am.

       Entering the kitchen, I looked around in search of Michael. A figure was rummaging through the fridge, though I couldn't tell who it was.

       "Michael?" I whispered, tapping them on the shoulder. As they turned and revealed their face, I realized it wasn't Michael at all.

       "Christine?" I gasped, looking her up and down. "Why are you here?"

       "Don't be silly, Jerbear, I live here! And so do you!" she chuckled, poking my nose and smiling. I took a step back, my mouth gaping in confusion and fear. What was she going on about?

       "Where's M-Michael?" I stuttered, looking around wildly. I realized I didn't recognize the kitchen at all, and that I wasn't in Michael's house anymore. Christine frowned, taking my hand into hers.

       "You must really miss him, huh?" She asked, sympathy glazing over her eyes.

       "W-Why would I m-miss h-him?"

       Christine cupped my cheek, kissing me lightly on the lips.

       "You remember what happened, don't you?"

       I pushed her away and backed up. I had no idea what she was talking about.

       "N-Nothing happened to h-him! I'm g-going to f-find him!" I shouted, scrambling out of the room. I threw the front door open and raced out into the rain, not even bothering to close it behind me. I heard Christine calling out to me, but I didn't listen. I had to find Michael.

       I spotted a short figure walking on the sidewalk, a black umbrella raised high above their head. I sprinted up to them, panting heavily.

       "Jeremy? Why are you out here?" Rich asked, holding the umbrella over me.

       "W-Where's Michael?" I managed to blurt out between breaths. A solemn look washed over his face, the same sympathetic gaze overcoming his eyes.

       "I know it's hard, buddy," he comforted, patting me on the back, "but you can get through this."

       I pulled away from him, a spark of anger flaring inside of me. I felt hot tears bubbling in my eyes, mixing with the chilling rainwater on my face. Everyone was talking as if Michael was dead, but Michael couldn't be dead.

I pushed Rich aside and ran onward, feeling the freezing wind and rain pierce my skin. My thoughts were all over the place, desperately trying to piece together what was going on. My thin coat was soaked and my feet were in puddles within my shoes. I kept racing down the sidewalk, my shoes squelching as they hit the pavement.

I ran for what seemed like hours before I stumbled upon the entrance to a gaping graveyard. I ran through the swerving paths, calling out for Michael. Desperate for rest, I slumped to the ground and leaned against a gravestone. I tried helplessly calling out Michael's name, even though I doubted he would hear me. My futile attempts were hopeless. I felt more tears running down my face and smiled weakly. None of this was real. It couldn't be. I shivered, a strong gust of wind billowing through the trees.

       My eyes wandered to a soaked piece of paper lying next to the grave, and I moved over to look at it. The ink was smudged and there was a reddish tint on the paper, but I could just barely make out a wall of writing. I noticed the name it was addressed to was mine, so I began to read: