Decode // Michael Clifford

Part 3 // Chapter 11

A/N: oh my god u guys i'm such an asshole i forgOT to post this and i've been so busy w/ midterms and shit omg i'm so sorry i'm gonna do a double update to make up for it OK ily guys and thank you if you havne't removed this from your library or anything :/

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Part 3: Chrysalis

/ˈkrisələs/ (n.); a preparatory or transitional state.

5 . 13 . 2010

"Holy shit, I can’t believe our little Quinn is graduating high school!" Ashton burst out the second Michael and I walked into his living room. He was sprawled out on his couch, practically on top of a scowling Calum. As much as Calum whined and complained and insisted that it was totally not dude-like to cuddle with his best mates, I knew as well as anyone else that he really did love to cuddle.

Just as I was about to correct Ashton and tell him that I was not little, I realized that I was a good foot shorter than him, and indeed extremely little to him. So instead, I nodded and smiled.

"I’m so proud," Michael said happily, resembling a beaming dad more than a boyfriend should on graduation day, except with weird hair. Over the past year, ever since he’d dyed one streak in his hair blue, he’d gone through several different hair colors. At the moment, it was faded blue. I liked it, but he had been talking about making it purple soon, which scared me just a little bit. He squeezed me into his side and pressed a kiss to my temple.

Ashton watched on with a happy smile, his hazel eyes sparkling behind his thick glasses. I tried not to think about his impending blindness, but it was difficult when his glasses kept getting thicker and his eyes gradually grew more and more clouded. He kept his easy smile, but I could tell he still hadn’t fully accepted the fact that he was going blind. He was spending an increasing amount of time at the gym, working out his anger, sadness, and frustration.

Apparently, he had also just recently taken in a kid from the streets: a tall, skinny blond boy called Luke, but I was a little dubious that was even his real name. When Ashton had first told us about him, a druggie kid just out of juvi who’d been kicked out of his house, I told Ashton not to waste his time. He ignored me though, and now Luke lived with Ashton. I’d only met the guy once and he usually stayed in his room and didn’t talk to any of the rest of us, but Ashton gave us daily updates on how he was doing, and that he had started to train him at the gym to keep away the drives of drug abuse.

"How’s the junkie?" Michael asked casually, slumping down onto Ashton’s couch and prodding his fingers into my side, prompting me to slide onto his lap.

"I dunno man, you tell me," Ashton countered with a grin, "how are you?"

Calum laughed loudly, punching Michael’s shoulder and then pointing at Ashton. “Nice one, mate,” he commented, the crinkles by his eyes prominent. Over the last year or so, Calum had tried every way to get over his last girlfriend. He went through girls like quickfire, trying to find instant love with random girls from parties and bars. He called me usually about once a week to tell me all about how his last two-day love had ended, and each time I told him to just take a break from girls, but each time he ignored me. He took it in stride, though, and he was still the big ball of laughter and love that I’d come to know him as.

Michael rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I think you’re forgetting that you’re both talking to your drug dealer, you fucking junkies.”

"I can’t believe Quinny hasn’t turned you into a goodie two shoes yet," Calum teased.

"She’s not as goodie two shoes as you think she is," Michael cooed, a devilish grin spreading across his face.

"Michael!" I squeaked, my cheeks tinging pink as Ashton and Calum giggled like little girls.