TOUGH LOVE • MICHAEL GRAY FANFIC

14

A car sits in front of the prison, which makes me raise an eyebrow, no cars that don't have a police label on them is welcome. I've seen that car before, but feel a wave of denial come over me. There's no way in hell Michael would allow Thomas to visit. He promised me he was going to keep that man out of his life. But the plates confirm it: Shelby Company Limited.

I'm not quite sure of what I was going to do, but my blood was boiling and I had this idea of Thomas trying to convince Michael to remain the accountant. But maybe Michael didn't tell Thomas anything at all? Oh, I hope Michael didn't lie.

"Bastards-" I murmur, walking towards the car. I slam my hand against the window, waking up a man who looks everything like Michael, but at he same time, everything but.

I gasp, watching as this man sits up from his sleeping position and looks at me, he cracks open the door and steps out.

"Michael?!" I don't blink once, staring at him. I can't believe he's out. Why does he look like he's seen a ghosts. Panic settles in, my whole body shakes. "Michael, are you alright?" I hold open the door, watching him stumble out.

A waft of whiskey pours out from his body, and I almost pull away as the scent gets stronger. Christ, he's wasted. Who on Earth gave him whiskey?

"June," He whispers before embracing me into a hug so warm that he becomes almost dependant on me. "I'm sorry," He whispers as he nuzzles his face into my neck. "I love you. I'm sorry."

Unable to help myself, my fingers go around his arms as I surrender myself to him. I sniffle, shifting my body closer to his. "It's ok. Hey," I continue to run my fingers down his back, "Its alright, Michael, everything'll be alright."

I don't know anything of what he's sorry about, but I also don't grant myself the selfishness to even ask, despite my obvious curiosity. I swallow, unsure of what to do in such a situation. He must've waited for me, knowing we had scheduled a meeting for today at this time. His body heat against mine makes me exhale, my eyes rolling back as his weight begins to put a toll on me. I shouldn't be thinking anything of this matter, but wit his lips against my neck and his arms wrapped around me like a blanket, I imagine him buried deep inside of me and bite down on my bottom lip with want. He pulls back but only to kiss my lips and embrace me in a different way, as if to answer my dark thoughts.

I can't help the moan that escapes from my lips as I wrap my hands around his big buff body, Michael, he graps my hips and pulls me into him before crashing me against the car. Its a total invasion as his lips attack mine and he hands move to my face, his fingers moving to my jaw where he holds me into my back. The back of my head comes in contract with the car and I gasp, my eyes shooting open to see his wild green eyes looking at me.

His pupil is dilated, "I was in a noose," He tells me through gritted teeth, the grasp on my jaw getting tighter as he holds me into place. He's in a trance as I talk, "I was scheduled to be hung, thirty-eight minutes ago. Dead."

I seize, pulling back. "Michael," A tear rolls down my cheek, my lips trembling, I reach out for his arm but end up finding his face. I touch his jaw, wishing he'd stop. "Please, Michael, you're scaring me..."

His face falls and he lets out a cry before dropping his hand and ripping his coat off of his body. He throws it with all of his might before sinking to the floor where he holds himself, folding his body as he sobs uncontroably,

No no, my scalp prickles as my knees scarp against the gravel as he screams. Punching his fists into rocks, I see blood stains and grab his hands. "Stop!" I cry, madness surrounds us. "Michael, please!"

Thunder, which usually scares me to death claps the sky as lightly breaks it. I shake as I sit in front of a lost boy, who gets smaller and smaller. I take his hands and open his fists, running my fingers over his bloodied knuckles. He raises his head, weary, looking at me like I'm some kind of stranger. He stares at me, eyebrows furrowed and eyes a greenish-grey.

"I'll never be enough for you." He slurs, "Never."

I smile at him shyly, allowing my fingers to run through his hair. "You're more than enough." I whisper, remembering the time I had asked him if I was enough for him.

He was in the fucking noose, that's why he's acting like this. Poor things in shock, my heart breaks for him. I can only imagine how fucked up that must've been, I wonder about how he got out of being hung, but again, I hold my tongue.

He pouts at me, and I secretly hug myself at how cute he looks. Its awful that his vulnerability gets me feeling so hot, but how can I help myself? Michael Gray shows emotions to me that I doubt he shows to anyone else. I feel important, treasured. He simply takes my breath away, and I want him to know that.

I push his hair away from his face and inch closer to him. I take his hand in mine and kiss his knuckles, looking up at him through my lashes. I taste the salted blood on my lips.

"Do you see me?" I ask.

A dark green set of eyes meet mine. His beautiful mouth tilts up into a crooked smile for a second, that strong jaw being flexed. He's in a haze, "I see a beautiful angel."

"No," I shake my head, pressing his hand against my cheek, "I'm alive. We're alive."

Without much consideration, I take his hand and press it to my chest before resting mine over his. "Do you feel that?" I choke on my sob. "We're alive, Michael."

"Alive?" Hopeful, he raises an eyebrow at me.

"Yes!" I cry, wishing I could see that dazzling smile of his. "Alive, baby, we're alive." I throw my hands around his neck, and when he reluctantly snakes his arm around my frame do I feel like that rush of emotions surge through me. Poor, poor Michael. My eyes darken as all I imagine is Thomas's smirk, like good, I've ruined your life, brought you to the ground, just like me.

"I'm sorry, June." He murmurs so only I can hear.

I still don't understand his apology and think, enough is enough, its beginning to get cold and wind is picking up. I glance around and pull my hand from his but he yanks me into him.

"Where are you going?" He asks pleadingly.

I wince, "I'm going to help you to stand, lets go to the car-"

"I-I-I can't drive, not now-"

Oh my.. "I'll drive, Michael," I whisper, standing up and tugging him to his feet. I nearly fall to the floor if it weren't for his help. I try to hold my breath, as I snake his arm over my shoulders and help him to the car. I sit him on the seat and look at the wheel to try and see the car keys. "Where are the keys, love?"

He mentions his pocket, and I dig my hand into it before feeling an empty vile of some sort, I pull back and take the glass with me and look at the white powder that sits in the deep blue holder. My throat drys as I turn and look at Michael again.

His eyes roll back as he rests his head against the seat, tilting his head up so that I see little specks of white powder on around his nostrils. My jaw hits the floor, recalling his comments about me taking snow. I stand, astonished of what I am witnessing. I gaze down at him in terror and in that innocent lost voice of his, he finally answers my questions and tells me again.

"I'm so sorry."