Runaway by Chase Atlantic tysm :-)
Youâre packing up the last of your stuff when you hear your front door open, and you know who it is before he speaks.
âHey, babe! Where are you?â Michael calls out from downstairs, and you call out that youâre in your room, smiling to yourself because you love how he calls you babe. He stumbles in a few seconds later, always bumping into the table at the end of the hall by the door to your room.
âYou wanna hang out orâŠsomethingâŠhey, whyâs all your stuff packed up? Are you going somewhere?â
You sigh, finally having to tell him what youâve been trying to keep secret for weeks. âWeâre, uh. Weâre moving. This weekend. I didnât want to tell you because I couldnât stand seeing you look all sad, like you do right now. I know I should have told you, but I couldnât think of a good way, and I thought that if I told somebody, it would make it real, and I donât want to leave. I donât want to leave this house, or this town, or you.â The tears youâd been trying to hold back start to fall then, and Michaelâs got his arms around you before the first one hits the floor.
âRun away with me.â You donât even have to think about it before youâre nodding, wiggling out of his hold to dump out everything from your biggest suitcase, replacing everything in it with necessities; Â a few outfits, clean underwear, toiletries, a few pairs of shoes, and some other stuff that you think might be necessary because you donât know how long youâre going to have to live out of it.
You leave a note on the kitchen table and leave without looking back.
Three a.m. finds you in Michaelâs car, somewhere you donât recognize, the CD thatâs stuck in the player cycling through for the eighth time, your forehead resting against the passenger window. You donât know where youâre going, you donât think Michael does, either, but you do know that wherever you end up will feel like home, as long as youâre there together.
finishing up song!sos blurb night; please donât send any more in!
