surrender. | michael clifford

chapter twelve.

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I woke up, the sun shining through the curtains. I looked to my left to see a sleeping Michael next to me. He gives off such a tough guy persona, yet when he's asleep he looks completely harmless.

I suppose being asleep is one of our most vulnerable states. We may not be unconscious, but we aren't alert. Our heads fill with vivid pictures that all have a bigger meaning than they seem to have. Dreams.

Dreams are quite strange, are they not? You shut your eyes and slip into your own personal movies. As images flick on and off the screen, you find yourself either immensely enjoying it, or absolutely disliking what is playing in your head.

What did I dream about last night?

Michael.

It probably means nothing. I mean, I spent all night with him. But it gets me wondering: Why not my boyfriend? Why don't I dream about Calum?

Like I said: Dreams have a bigger meaning. I just can't figure out what this one is.

Michael stirs, probably feeling my watchful eyes on him.

"It's not polite to stare," he said, his morning voice deep and raspy.

"Sorry," I said, looking away.

"I didn't say to stop."

I turned to him. His eyes were now open as he looked at me, smiling.

"How can someone look so good when they just wake up?" He asks, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes.

"I should be the one asking you that, Clifford," I said playfully.

He smiled at me, obviously happy at my compliment. I turned over to the nightstand on my right, grabbing my phone, seeing five new text messages and twelve missed calls from Calum.

Calum: hey babe can we talk?
Calum: listen, i'm sorry.
Calum: i'm coming over.
Calum: why aren't you home? are you ok?
Calum: chloe please answer me. i love you.

I sighed. Do I give him another chance? He did leave me alone at a party with no ride.

"What's up?" I hear Michael say as he scooches over, hugging my side to get a better view of my phone.

"Just Calum. I should probably call him."

"Oh, okay," he said, getting off the bed, "I'll be downstairs."

I nodded as he exited the room. I unlocked my phone, punching in my four digit passcode. I went to my contacts, clicking on Calum's. His contact picture is an ugly selfie we took about a month ago. I laughed at the memory.

I hit call, the phone barely ringing before he picked up.

"Chloe?" He breathed out, sounding panicked.

"Hi," I replied meekly.

"Jesus Christ, where are you? I've been worried sick."

"Well then maybe you shouldn't have stranded me at the party with no ride," I snapped back.

"I know baby, I know. I'm so sorry. I was angry and being irrational. Can I make it up to you? I can take you to your favorite place," he said. I could hear the smile in his voice.