ᵢₘₐgᵢₙₑ ➳ Michael Gray [ON HOLD]

➳ six - the aftermath

《 in the end we only regret the chances we didn't take 》

➳

Arabella watched with wide eyes as the Shelby clan slowly poured out from her house, Esme whining as John playfully spun her around and carried her out of the door. Lizzie nodded at her as she exited and Grace sent her a pitying look, clearly having noticed the expression on Michael's face. An expression of deadly intent as his eyes narrowed in the direction of his acclaimed fiancé.

"So...yeah. That was, uh, that was fun?"

Arabella's tone was almost quizzical as she fiddled with her fingers, sat atop of the counter she had been dancing around on happily not long ago, Arthur having placed her on it after Tommy handed her off. The Shelby man hadn't been too impressed by her attempt to escape the wrath of his cousin. Though he did have a small smirk at her drunken actions. Arabella took great pride in that fact. However, she wasn't feeling quite so much pride anymore as Michael stared her down angrily.

"Fun?" His voice was dark and warning, "You think that was fucking fun! Do you have any idea what could have fucking happened? Huh." His volume increased to a roar as he thumped his fist off of the table he had been resting upon.

Arabella would have run if only she hadn't been placed upon the countertop, still clad in the stiletto boots that served as a reminder of her tour. Even if she had run, it wasn't like she would be getting too far in them, especially with Michael as fuming as he currently was.

So, to put it short, she was fucked. Absolutely, positively fucked.

Her wide eyes remained trained on Michael as he angrily spat out insults and degrading phrases in his typical fashion. Some stung a little and hit her hard but she refused to let it show - her liquid confidence from earlier slowly wearing off with each comment that the man made. He furiously rambled on while taking out his anger upon the plastic cups that littered the floor, launching them into a plastic bag that Lizzie had put out in preparation.

" - Did you seriously not have the fucking sense to consider the danger you were putting yourself in? That you were putting your career and mine in? Huh! ANSWER ME, ARABELLA!"

The brunette flinched back slightly before steeling her expression, "No, Michael."

"No? No! That's all you have to fucking say!" Another loud bang echoed as his foot connected with the archway into the kitchen.

"Yes, Michael. That's all I have to say. What do you want me to say?" Arabella huffed out and watched as his eyes narrowed towards her, the man chewing on his bottom lip with one sarcastic raised eyebrow.

"What do I want you to say..." Michael's voice had lowered until it sounded almost calm, a dangerous thing that he had picked up from Tommy that Grace had ranted about days earlier during a bonding session. "Well, Arabella, I want a fucking explanation on what gave you the right to fucking throw a party in my house. "