Two Lines- Michael Clifford
AN: yes, it has been a hot minute, and idk how i feel about it. I went digging through some old writing and found this, its kinda of angsty, but i like it. Also it’s not getting a part two:(
TW: heartbreak, pregnancy idk man, general angst.
Two lines, was all it took, you were sure that it was a mistake, that something was wrong with the test. So you went to the convenience store down the street and bought a couple more. While you were gathering all your things you stood there and felt a rush of cold go down your spine. That’s why you returned safely adorned in one of Michael’s sweaters, making you feel safe and a little less scared than what you were.
When you exited the apartment building you pulled the hood up and bowed your head, trying to be as discreet as possible. You watched your feet as you walked the familiar way to the store, not looking up once.
Returning home you pulled off the hood and went straight to the bathroom. You sat down and did everything correctly, just as the packaging said. And waited just as long as the packaging said. And when you saw the results your body numbed completely.
They were all positive, all two lines on the little screen.
Loud steps filled the apartment and you knew Michael was home.
“Babe, where are you?”, he yelled from the kitchen as you heard the fridge open, the little squeak from the door making you drop the stick. It’s not far from where you are sitting on the floor, but you still hear a little click when it hits the floor.
“In the bathroom,” you spoke numbly, with a monotone voice.
Immediately you regretted answering him. You voice inanimate and the little clicking noise the test made when it hit the tiles. Michael came stomping into the room long before you had the chance to clean up everything.
“Are you al- what’s this?” He squints down on the many pregnancy tests strewn across the room, on the floor and the bathroom counter. He picks up one of them.
Immediately his whole demeanour changes from concerned to stoic.
“Are you?” The question hangs like a guillotine in the air. And all you can do is nod hoping that it won’t sever your neck.
“Yeah”, you whisper as time passes by, watching as Michael's eyes flicker across the neat bathroom.
“Well we can fix this, I can call the doctor and we can fix this.” He says all tense as he stands up from his crouching position.
“Fix this? I’m not broken Michael, I’m preg-“ you sigh.
“I’m pregnant” you have made your decision. The room suddenly feels too hot and you quickly wring off the hoodie. It causes your T-shirt to ride up, and when you toss the hoodie aside you see Michael still staring at your stomach.
“I’m not ready to be a father! And you’re not ready to be a mother!” He all but yells as he realises what has happened in that beautiful mind of yours.
“Watch me Michael, I’m not broken and this is not something you can just fix”. Your voice is firm, and determined.
“Just please, let’s think about this! Be reasonable, with me on tour and everything going on.. please can’t we at least sleep on it?”
And you tell him you agree, and you wish you did, so much.
He falls asleep at one thirty that night, but you wait another half hour before you get out of bed again, unwinding from underneath his arm that ironically rests on your stomach. Quietly, you pack a small bag of your essentials, almost forgetting your wallet as tears cloud your eyes.
Carefully you open the door and stand there just looking at the living room where so many good memories lie. Knowing that when you close the door there is no going back. You turn around one last time and see your key to the apartment shining in the moonlight, on the countertop before closing the door gently.
You throw your bag in the trunk of your car and sit down in front of the steering wheel. Putting a hand on your stomach you look down before turning the key in the ignition.
“It’s only you and me now little one, me and you.”
