Advice//muke

0.9

"This isn't a good idea, Luke." Michael tells me, his hands shaking as he held onto the bench he was seated on.

"Of course it is." I roll my eyes, as I struggled to slide my foot into the left skate.

"I don't want to do this."

"But I wanted to do this with someone."

Now it's Michael's turn to roll his eyes.

"Why didn't you take your girlfriend?"

"Because," I start, trying to finish tying the laces. "She's sleeping."

"You should have woken her up. She probably would have loved this."

"So?"

"That's what boyfriend and girlfriend do. You guys have been dating forever. You should be taking her here for a date."

I ignored Michael, standing up, and turning around. "Come on Michael."

Before I could skate away, he had his arm intertwined with mine, leaning on me to get up.

"Sorry." He says sheepishly, his pale cheeks heating up. "You know I'm not good at this." He steadied himself, grabbing my hand even tighter.

I normally wasn't one for skating here. It was one of the average hangouts on a Friday night. The music wasn't even good. It wasn't that fun, but it was just one of those things that felt like the right thing to do.

Skating itself wasn't that hard. I had done it before. So i couldn't understand why Michael was having such a hard time.

The first time I even tried to skate, he held on tight, but didn't bother moving, and fell on his face.

After a few uneventful tries, I instructed for him to just hold on, and try copying my moments.

His cheeks as red as ever, he stood up again, and grabbed my hand.

(u have no idea how badly i wanted Luke to say "but no homo" here omfg)

"Sorry." He mumbles again, holding on so hard he was cutting of my circulation. "I just don't want to fall again."

A catchy song started playing, and I could tell Michael knew it, as he started to smile.

"It's One Direction." He tells me, leaning into me as I made a long stride. "One of their new songs. Steal My Girl. I love them."

I would have teased most guys about liking a band like one direction, but there was something about how happy Michael seemed that made me stop.

We had been there for about forty five minutes when Michael let go of my hand, claiming he could stand up by himself. I couldn't help but be worried, as the crowd was kind of thick, and I didn't want him to get hurt. Of course, as he tried to turn the corner, he didn't turn sharp enough, and ran into the railing at the side of the rink.

Michael decided to take a break, and we went to go sit at a bench in the corner. Michael's face was red and his hair was matted. I prayed I didn't look like this. I couldn't stand it when my hair was messed up.

"That was actually fun." Michael admits, pulling his hoodie on, and the sleeves over his hands. "But I think we should go. I'm not supposed to be gone anyways."

"Why don't we go get coffee first?" I suggest.

"But you hate coffee.''

"But you like it."

-

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