Chapter Nine
461 Words
| michael’s pov |
“I’m really sorry; I didn’t mean to. I’m such an i***t, I bet you think I’m disgusting right now,” Belle spoke, frantically. She continued on insulting herself, making me laugh a little.
My hoodie was taken from my hands by Belle. “It’s… it’s fine,” I reassured her, trying to take it back.
She moved away, not allowing me to get it from her. “No, no. I just literally drooled on your hoodie! How is that ‘fine’?”
It was a little surprising, but she was just human. I mean, everyone… drools. It was adorable how she reacted though; she pried the clothing away from me from embarrassment.
Her cheeks were flushed red, as her lips formed a pout. “I’m sorry, Michael. I’ll… I’ll buy you a new one!” She offered, as we entered her hotel. The way my name rolled off her tongue made 'butterflies explode in my stomach', in the words of one text post I read before.
I didn't answer and found myself looking outside. There were only a few fans, who were occupied with August, the band’s drummer, who was running a hand through her hair, like always.
Ashton stood beside her, his arm around her waist, raising my suspicion. But they couldn’t be together. August had a girlfriend.
I snapped out of my thoughts by Belle’s expression. She had the biggest frown on and her brown eyes were staring at me.
I stared back at her, not knowing what else to do. I didn’t know what to say, should I ask her why she was looking at me like that? Or should I just keep it cool and say nothing at all?
Her head tilted, and her eyes narrowed.
I tilted my head, too, and raised my eyebrow. What in the world are we doing?
She giggled for a bit before holding my hoodie close to her. “I’ll wash it; hopefully, I’ll be able to return it to you.”
I nodded, smiling back at her, finding no reason to refuse. She could even keep it, if she wanted to. I wouldn’t even mind one bit.
Because maybe, that way, she’d remember me.
Even if it was just as ‘the boy she drooled on’.
Even if it was just a small memory of me.
As long as it meant something to her, I’d be okay.
As long as I meant something to her, I’d be fine.
- Writer
