violet skies / michael clifford

"i don't drink coffee"

9. just play along, jessa

"The guys told me I can join the band," Ashton whispers, trying really hard to keep his excited self from jumping up and down. We were sorting books into order, and had to stay quiet - library rules. "Calum even got down on one knee."

"That's great!"

"I know," he beams. "Michael told me to burn the purple shirt, though."

I can't help but noticing the shirt Ashton was wearing. A loose Pierce The Veil t-shirt. Never in a million years did Ashton listen to them, I highly doubted it. "So that's why you look different. You didn't actually burn the purple shirt, did you?"

Giggling quietly, Ashton puts another book onto the shelf. He pushes the back into place, in perfect line with the others. He'd always been that way - a perfectionist.

"Luke let me borrow it," he says, running his hands over the fabric, smoothing out invisible crinkles.

"Luke? You're sharing clothes already?"

"It's not like that," Ashton mumbles, hiding his reddening cheeks behind his long fringe. "It's just a band thing."

"Are you sure?" I whisper back. "You and Luke seemed to hit it off rather quickly."

"Yeah, we've met before. When I did shifts as KFC," Ashton says, his eyes shifting.

Before Ashton started helping out at the library, he was working at KFC. On a good day he'd bring me some chicken after his shift. Before he got sacked, that was.

"I still can't believe you got fired for getting caught snogging during work hours."

"Uh," he says, "yeah, about that. . ."

"What?"

"I'm not supposed to tell anyone, but it's very difficult not to because I feel like I might explode. The person I got caught kissing that time," he says, pausing before he finishes his sentence, "it was Luke."

I just stare at him in shock. "Luke?"

I must have said it out loud, because Ashton immediately covers my mouth with his hand, "Shh! Please, please don't tell anyone. He will cut me up the way he cuts his shirts if anyone finds out."

We pinky promise, and then Ashton has me swearing upon The Perks of Being a Wallflower that I will never tell his secret to anybody. I remove my hand off the book and put it back on the shelf.

"I promise. So is there anything going on between you?"

"No, he got kinda mad when he realised I'm only sixteen," he says and let's his hazel eyes wander to the floor. "He'll be twenty soon and I guess I'm just a kid to him."

Will Michael stop hanging out with me if he finds out my age? For a moment, I consider lying and adding on a couple of years.

Only half an hour remains when a set of hands are put over my eyes. If I said I hadn't been studying his fingers I'd be lying. I could easily distinguish between his short, slightly roughened at the tips from the guitar playing, and anybody else's.

The way his jacket smelled of cigarette smoke confirmed that it was Michael.

"Surprised to see me here?" He smiles widely when I spin around to face him.

He lets his hands drop to my sides, gently brushing them at my waist. It's as if he doesn't want to hold me too firmly; like I'm a porcelain doll he doesn't want to break. I wish he'd stop thinking of me that way.

"Very, surprised," I say, nodding my head. "I didn't know you could read."

"I know I'm illiterate, but not that illiterate. I read comics all the time."

"Don't worry, I can read you a bedtime story sometime."

"That's hot. What's it about?"

"It's about a cuddly kitten called Michael. One day he goes on an adventure and kitten Michael accidentally falls into a bowl of purple paint."

"Fuck off," he groans, rolling his eyes at me. His hands left my sides as the purple-haired guy takes a step away from me.

"Hey, don't swear at me," I mumble, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I'd wished he'd stop censoring himself around me, but the sharpness of his voice actually stings as he swears at me.

Michael frowns, but his face doesn't stay that way for long. He swipes his hair away from his face, leaning back in his heels. "Anyway, I was going to ask you to have coffee after you finish."

"Coffee is not very punk rock."

"Alright," he says, "and what would be punk rock?"

"Drinking Jack Daniels from the bottle in the back of a dark alley smelling of spray paint and gasoline."

"Sure, let's do that."

"Coffee sounds great," I say.

"Thought so," Michael laughs. "Anyway, I'm never very punk rock when I'm with you. I'm a wemo, remember?"

"I've not actually called you wemo today, and you haven't called me princess once. Let's keep it that way?"

"I thought you liked it when I called you princess," he smirks and I'm instantly melting.

"Oh," I hear it slip through my lips before I can hold it back. The truth is I might like it just a little bit. Like, a tiny bit. Princess. It's as if his chapped lips are made to say it.

"You're blushing," he states, the smirk not leaving his lips once, "Did I just make you blush?"

"Shut it," I mumble, resting my head back to keep him from seeing how red my cheeks have gone. Maybe if I look up, the blood would stop rushing to my face. It doesn't.

"You like it when I call you princess?" He just keeps smiling, wider and wider until it drops. "Does it do things to you?" If possible, his voice goes even deeper.

I look around, ignoring his question and make sure I won't get into trouble for not doing the work I'm meant to be doing.

"Fine, I'll let it go," he says, probably noticing the awkward look on my face. I'm glad he doesn't push it any further. I'm not ready for that yet. However, secretly, I wish he will say it again. Just once. "Princess."

There it is. My legs are about to give in.

The shelf wobbles behind me, and Michael quickly reaches his arms out to move me away from the books falling down around us.

"Oh no."

An angry librarian comes around the corner, scowling at me. "What do you think you're doing?"

I lose my extra job that day. Michael looks at me apologetically and offers to give me a lift home.

I watch his profile as he keeps his eyes on the road. His eyes look really bright when the sunlight reaches them; the green turns into an almost blue colour and it's beautiful. I wish I had my camera with me; I'd take a picture and frame it.

"I'm sorry for getting you fired. On the bright side, though, I get to treat you to coffee."

"I don't even drink coffee."

"Goddammit. You're ruining the moment," he groans, "Please just play along?"

"Fine," I laugh, letting it ring out although I don't really like the sound of my own laugh. With Michael around, it's almost impossible to hold it back, though. It seems he's an expert at bringing it out of me. "Michael, I would absolutely love going for a coffee with you."

Michael turns the steering wheel, nodding. "That's more like it, princess."

And I immediately feel the hotness creeping up my neck as the word is formed on his perfectly pink lips.

-
lashton hooked up during work hours DESPICABLE

i wanna be mikeys princess oK

i love japan mikey such happy

~lauren