#michealia

Lia’s POV:

It’s cold tonight.

The stars are so bright though. Maybe they’re taking pity on me right now. I finish puffing the small paper star between my fingers and throw it into a small jar. My secret hobby. Sometimes I want to cry or scream, but I’m better than that. I have to be. 

So whenever I get the urge to do any of it, I fold a little star with a wish inside. Sometimes they’ll say ‘I wish I could cry right now” or “I wish I could run away where no one knows me.” Tonight I wrote “I wish I could forget it all.”

Michael’s POV:

Where did she go?

Unfortunately for her I could see right through her lie of “it’s not a big deal. Light work.” Sorry Lia, but the way your eyes don’t even slightly smile with your smile is quite the tell.

Found you. I don’t know why I didn’t check her first. Almost always does she come up onto the roof when she’s upset. I should knock to let her know I’m here, I don’t feel like getting socked in the gut because I saw her cry.

Lia’s POV:

I startle when I hear the knocking. I hide the small star jar up my sleeve as I turn around to see who it is. Michael. I don’t know if I particularly want to see him right now, but whatever.

“You need something?”

“Came to check on you. Grabbed a blanket too, want it?” He holds up a dark blue blanket, stars scattered on it. A blanket that he only ever uses in a situation like this. A situation where he knows I’m upset, but will pretend I’m not. His way of saying “I’m here.”

“Yeah. It’s cold.” I turn back around, hearing him hit the window frame as he climbed through, “how graceful.”

“Why thank you.” He wraps the blanket around me, a pint of ice cream follows suit as he places it in front of me. “Must’ve been a bit…”

“Bit hard? I told you, light work. It’s not like it was my first time in a cult.” I say a bit too quickly, too defensively. That’s not like me, not at all.

“Look, I’m not going to pry. I’ll just sit with you or talk, up to you. You don’t need to pretend that infiltrating the cult didn’t affect you.”

The most recent case, a cult of pyromaniacs, led me to go undercover and dig around their base. It wasn’t like the one with Sadie or the one in Gaither. There wasn’t some stupid savior complex where everyone is naive and foolish, just weirdos with a fascination with fire. Just as foolish and just as stupid all the same. The little kids in there, the ones that looked scared and not in awe, they’ll be burned in that pit. That pit with so so so many little shoes. That little boy I could’ve taken with me, but if I did it wouldn’t have ended well.

I left her behind again.

No, it wasn’t her, it wasn’t Sadie’s mom. It was just some wide eyed crybaby who reminds me of Sadie. That’s it and that’s all I’ll let it be.

“What came from the info I got?” I finally manage to say something. I’m surprised he sat in silence.

“The UNSUB is most definitely part of the cult- well was. Dean’s predicting something set him off and now he’s going solo.” 

“He’s scarily close. He’s behind that family’s house burning down last week right?”

“Yeah.” He sighs and leans back, looking up at the stars. “Your ice cream’s going to melt.”

I look down and after a second of debating, I pick it up, “There were rooms just filled with smoke. They’d throw whoever wasn’t listening into them. Let the choke for a bit and then drag them out. They started getting suspicious of me, had me light someone’s garden up. No one got hurt luckily, but still.”

I took a bite from the cup in my hands. I see him debate between reaching out or just sitting in silence.

“It was salvageable. Sloane got the message so Sterling had a team to put out the fire on hand. It only got a small patch completely scorched, according to the lady who owned it: ‘it was just some weeds and veggies no one eats.’” He recounts the information.

“It wasn’t small, was it?” I was less asking and more letting him know there was no point in lying.

“Small is subjective-” He begins saying before glancing at me. I was only glaring, but he switched up, “it was like half the garden.”

I hate this feeling of guilt, I just want to claw the skin off my bones. I shovel the ice cream down my throat. Can’t feel the burning tightness in my throat if I freeze it instead.

I put the pint down, but as I set it down the star jar in my sleeve rolled out. Fuck.

Michael’s POV:

I watch as a small glass jar with something colorful inside falls from Lia’s sleeve. I catch it before it rolls off the roof. They were paper stars. I glance at Lia to see if I should return it immediately or if I could tease her, maybe get her mind off the cult.

I look at the most cold look in her eyes I think I’ve ever seen. I toss the small bottle at her, “my bad.”

She seemed to feel less murderous as she fidgeted with it. After a moment of some thinking she holds it up, “A wish jar.”

I nod, not too sure how to respond. She holds it out to me and so I grab it, “You can look at one of the wishes if you’re willing to grant it. Only if you’re willing to grant it. If you fail then… you got to go tell Dean how much you appreciate and love him.”

I snort at the threat, “sure sure.”

I debate between the purple and red paper stars. I pick them both up, but I see her tense up when I was about to open the red one. So like a gentleman, I ultimately choose to open up the star in glimmering purple paper. It read: “I wish I could get away for a little bit.”

Now that I can grant, “grab a jacket and your phone if you want aux.”

I swing my car keys on my finger as I stand and wait for her to get up.

Lia’s POV:

I think I’m genuinely stupid. If he picked the red I think it says something to the effect of: “I wish Michael chose to change for me and not Cassie” or something adjacent. He just said something to me. I’m not too sure what it was, but he has that cocky grin and he has his car keys spinning on his finger. I’m gonna assume we’re going on a drive, so I stand up and dust myself up.

“Throw this away.” I hand him my ice cream trash.

“As you wish m’lady.” Michael holds out his hand in a dramatic fashion. I hate that he’s already making me feel better or at least distracting my thoughts.

What’s that saying? Can’t think of pyromaniac cults if you’re too busy with boy problems? Eh whatever.

Once he’s left my room I decide to change into something else. I’ll just throw on these black sweatpants– ooo! This tube top is cute, I can pair it with the jacket I stole from Cassie. I’ll put on the matching crocs I have with Michael too. 

I braid my hair as I walk down the steps and out the backyard door. Hopping the fence and meeting Michael at the spot a little over the hill.

“I’m assuming we’re not supposed to be leaving the house?” I ask.

With the most shit-eating grin ever, he answers, “nope! We’re such good kids, I know. Now hop in because I know for a fact that it doesn’t bother you.”

I roll my eyes and get into the passenger seat, “where to?”

“Wherever, maybe stop by the convenience store to pick up some snacks and we can chill at that playground off of Langston Avenue?”

“Sounds good.” I absentmindedly agree as I disconnect his phone and connect my phone to his car.

Nothing like Chase Atlantic to vibe to. Michael starts to drive as Heaven and Back begins to play. 

“Can I open up another star? As long as I can grant the wish inside it’s fine right?” Michaels asks at a red light.

Oh hell no, “Nope. A one time thing.” 

“But what could’ve possibly made you scared when I almost picked up the red star?” Michael teases.

“For me to know and you to mind your own business. Green light by the way.” I nod to the traffic light in front of us.

“C’mon, just one more. Plus it can’t have been that bad if you let me have the jar.” He pushes, not enough to make me upset, but just enough to annoy me like he wants.

“Don’t miss your turn.”

“Awh shit.” He mumbles as he misses the turn, “oops?”

I shake my head and snort. Idiot.

Michael’s POV:

She’s smiling again, that’s good. Glad I missed the turn then. I lean back in my seat, glancing at her occasionally. She’s feeling better or at least distracted. I want to know what’s in the red star, but perhaps I’ll let this one go.

I pull into the parking lot of a gas station and meet her at the front door of the store. We go in and quickly go back out. It’s pretty empty in there tonight, except for some weird creep that kept staring at Lia. Gross.

Whatever I got her in the car safely, if he tried anything I’d have been nearby. Plus Lia can hold her own in a fight for a bit. As we settle in she switches to our mixed playlist, Britney Spears starts to blast. Fire artist, wonder who added her. It was Michael.

We get to the playground, empty. Nice, sometimes there are other teens sneaking around, but it’s a weekend so anyone bold enough to be sneaking out is at a club or something.

I stretch coming out of the car and grab the snacks from Lia, holding the bag as we walk to the top of the jungle gym.

“So?” I prompt as she usually has a game or a dare to start the night off.

“Sooo,” she echoes back, holding up a soju bottle.

“Mmm, I would, but I am driving and unfortunately we’re too far to walk back.” She hands me the bottle to pour her a shot.

“More for me then.” She throws back the shot I just poured.

I shake my head with a chuckle. We talk about anything for an hour or two, but she gets a little more than just tipsy. I should’ve had her pour me a few shots, I could’ve just dumped it behind me. Too late now, she finished the entire bottle on nothing, but ice cream and some chips. Briggs is gonna kill me.

“Michael~ want to see the red star?” She tilts her head at me, holding out the jar.

I take the jar and place it back in her pocket, “I do, but you’d kill me in the morning.”

She gets a bit whiney before pulling the jar out and fishing for the red star I had in my hand earlier, “I’ll even read it out, but you have to grant it okay?”

“Lia. Put it back. Actually we should head back-”

“I wish Michael would’ve chosen to change for me and not Cassie.” Lia read out before I could stop her.

I freeze. What do I say to that?

“Stop lying, c’mon we’re heading home.” I’m just gonna dismiss it and pretend I didn’t hear it.

“You have to grant it, you wanted to open it so badly. So grant it.” Her voice is starting to raise with something more than anger.

I shake my head, already moving to dispose of our snacks and drinks, “No. I said not to read it, you chose to read it. I’ll pretend I didn’t hear. Let’s go.”

She tugs me back, forcing me to look at her. Something I was trying to avoid the moment she read the wish. “You can’t even look at me right now. Look at me.”

I kept my eyes anywhere, but at her. “You’re drunk, c’mon.”

“Michael please. At least tell me why. Why did you feel the need to change for her? Why? When you would never even consider changing for me!” I can hear the hurt, the confusion, the insecurity.

As I open my mouth to try and answer something, she speaks up again, “I would never ask you to change, I don’t care if you do or don’t. But if you’re going to change, why her? Why Cassie? Did you believe you couldn’t deserve her and now that she’s with Dean you’ll just settle for me? Am I someone you think you deserve, am I so horrible that you’ll settle for me without thinking of changing?”

Lia’s POV:

Why am I talking so much? I swear I’m not this emotional when I’m drunk. Even so, why is he so choked up? It doesn’t matter, just please don’t answer.

I can tell he’s reading me, I can tell he’s contemplating what to say, I can feel tears fall, this anger in my stomach wanting to bubble out. I want to scream, I want to sob, I want to know why I’m not ever seen as enough, I want to feel like someone wants me, I want to know why Cassie, but I don’t want to know at the same time. 

God, I’m a mess right now. Maybe the cult really did throw me off. Maybe I do care more than I want to about it and about him. 

Speaking of him, why’s he so quiet now? Say something.

Please.

Michael’s POV:

She’s waiting for a response. She doesn’t want to hear one, but she wants one.

“We’re heading home. If you ask again I’ll answer. I’ll either lie or I won’t, you’ll be able to tell regardless. I’ll sincerely tell you if I truly think Cassie is someone to be deserved and you’re not. So go on, ask. Or get in the car and drop it.”

That is most definitely the worst thing to say, but she’ll drop it. I trudge towards the car, looking back at her once I’ve made it. She’s staring at me, more tears falling from her eyes and more hurt etched across her face. Wow, we crashed and burned before we even started anything this time.

She slowly makes her way to the car when I hear something beeping, I look around the interior. And then the exterior.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

I find it, it’s by the back tire of the driver’s side. It is…a bomb with a count down of 20 seconds. Lia.

Lia’s POV:

What an asshole. I’m dragging my feet and I’m about 3 meters from the car when I see Michael book it towards me. I don’t have time to ask or to step back as he tackles me to the floor.

“MICHAEL WHAT THE HEL-” 

BOOM.

The car blew up. We were too close, it still hit us. Michael more so than me. It’s so hot, but I can’t move. His heavy body is pinning me down.

“Michael? We need to move.” Please be awake. “Michael!”

I manage to roll him off of me, putting out a fire that was on his back in the process. Shit that’s bad. I drag him up the hill as far from the car as my strength and stamina allows. I call Briggs while I check his back as well as him in general for any other injuries.

I look around to see if there are any civilians for help, when I spot the guy from the gas station. He sees me too, that fucker is grinning. Is that…that’s the freaking cult tattoo.

No shot Michael and I were lucky enough to run into the UNSUB. If this guy doesn’t kill us, Sterling might.

I see the UNSUB walk closer, watching the flame of the car more than us. I try to get up and pull Michael further when I feel a sharp pain, Shit! Ow!

I look down at my ankle, it’s swollen and purple. It must’ve broken when Michael tackled me, but why am I only feeling it now? Maybe I was on adrenaline from the car blowing up three meters in front of me. This cannot be happening right now.

I’m glad the weirdo is so focused on the fire, it should only be two more minutes till help arrives. I jinxed it fuck. Why’s he walking over here? Go away weirdo, go!

I’m holding onto Michael tight, did he have to look so pretty passed out? How annoying, wake up already. I see headlights in the distance, but the man is already close. Maybe 8 or so meters away? I can’t tell, my head is starting to throb.

I look at Michael, opting for his face to be the last thing I see over the pyro weirdo.

The next thing I see is the bright white lights of a hospital room. Briggs and Sterling must’ve got there in time. I sit up, my head pounding.

“You should lay down. You got a concussion.” I hear a familiar voice to my right. Sterling.

“Where’s Michael? Is he okay? Is he alive?” I rapidly fired my questions the moment I recognized her.

“The room next door and he’s fine. Briggs is with him. He’s still sleeping, but that means he won’t feel the burn yet.” Sterling said calmly.

I nod, okay with that. That is until I hear feet scurrying nearby and my door flies open, “LIA ARE YOU OKAY?”

I guess Michael woke up. “I’m fine. Shouldn’t you be in bed or in pain?”

“I just- I just had to make sure you’re fine. I couldn’t remember if I made it to you in time.”

The Michael Townsend had his emotions on his sleeve right now, the pure panic and fear of losing me made me a little happy, guiltily enough, “I’m fine and alive.”

“Not for long as there is a 97% chance Sterling is going to kill you. Figuratively I think.” Sloane piped up from the doorway next to Briggs, scaring him.

“Wow, the whole family’s here.” I smile, Michael’s hand holding mine.

-> Cut Pov, Sterling’s POV:

I see the car on fire like Lia said. I also see a guy near the car walking up to…shit that’s probably her and Michael.

“Tanner, hurry up.” I urge him as he clears the final distance and I jump out of the car, running.

“HANDS UP.” I yell out to the odd man in front of me. Is that the UNSUB? My god these kids are going to give me a heart attack.

I watch Lia collapse, fuck this. I shoot the guy in the leg. Getting close to arrest him, but Tanner taps me on the shoulder, “Get the kids to the hospital, Starmans is on the way. We can handle him.”

I nod and rush over to the two teens. Lia smells like alcohol and luckily Michael doesn’t. At least he wasn’t planning to drink and drive. Back to the task at hand, they’re both breathing that’s good. Michael has a pretty bad burn on his back and some scrapes and bruises, but he’ll live. Lia’s the same, but with a broken ankle and not a burn. Michael must’ve shielded her.

Her claw-like nails attacked his flesh and she dragged him around the corner, nothing but pure fury in her eyes. Micheal, naturally, couldn’t help himself but laugh, even as his back smacked into the wall and a wave of pain rolled down his spine.

Lia’s hands were square on his chest, pinning him in place roughly. For someone so small she was a lot stronger than she looked and Micheal couldn’t deny he liked it. Of course he couldn’t deny anything with her around anyway.

Her eyes burnt holes through him, “how dare you-“

“I know you want me darling but you could’ve asked,” he cut her off, not fighting her touch one bit, instead leaning back into the wall so she could push him even harder, “pinning me to the wall is so unrefined.”

“I’m give you fucking refined,” she growled, curling her finger around his shirt brutally before pulling him forwards, close to her, then pushing him back again, fighting a smile as his back slammed into the wall again.

“Rough,” he grinned to hide his wince, tongue sliding across his teeth, “I like it.”

“Let’s see if you still like it when I dislocate your arm,” she spat fiercely.

“Kinky,” he winked.

Her fingers tightened around the fabric but her face flattened to a forged numbness. She stared at him, devoid of any amusement or emotion at all, “not everything is a joke Micheal.”

“You’re right,” he nodded thoughtfully, secretly admiring the way her left eye squinted by the slightest fraction betraying her annoyance, “let’s get our clothes off, then we can get serious.”

“You wish,” she scoffed, letting go of his shirt but keeping her knee snugly situated between his legs incase he had any escape routes planned.

He snorted, wary of her position but not showing it, “be honest with yourself now darling, you want-“

“Don’t tell me what I want,” Lia snapped, inching closer, “men are always so quick to tell a woman she wants but let me tell you-“

“Wait-“

“Uh-uh,” she clamped her hand over his mouth, “my turn, you shut up.”

“Rude,” he mumbled, the word muffled by her hand.

Lia rolled her eyes, her face sagging with exhaustion, the girl always seemed to have fire in her belly but not today, something was off, “I don’t even know why I try with you anymore,” she muttered, taking her hand away.

“Careful darling,” he said in a low voice, dipping his head so their eyes had no choice but to connect, “you’re getting vulnerable. I thought we didn’t do that.”

A knot twisted in her gut. He was right. They didn’t do vulnerable and she was letting herself graze that territory. Disgusted at the thought, she put all her walls came back up, this time even icier.

“I hate you,” she hissed, her teeth barred in some sort of primal defence.

“Believe me darling,” Micheal whispered, leaning in closer still, “I hate you so much more.”

Their faces were inches from one another’s, noses so close they could touch. Classically, it would be moments before they were having a lust-filled angered make out session, but not today. Anything Lia had ever wanted from him had disappeared the second she found out what he’d done.

Her lips curved upwards, “you’re lying.”

She allowed her voice to smooth and adopt a sweetness she loathed because she knew it’d be driving him crazy.

“And you’re hiding how you really feel about me behind a forged anger,” he smirked back, “two can play at that game, darling.”

She wrinkled her nose, narrowing her eyes, “you disgust me.”

“Thank you,” he hummed merrily, then paused.

He dared to reach out and tenderly brush the hair from her face to get her back for the voice stunt that had indeed driven him a little insane in the moment. Lia shivered as his fingers grazed her skin, so softly it made her face ache after they’d left.

Micheal and Lia didn’t do tender.

They didn’t do the lovey-dovey mushy stuff. It was all heated, scorching, flames, it was dangerous teriory and screaming matches, and lustful grabs and playful biting. They didn’t do gentle or sweet or anything remotely resembling a healthy relationship.

“Stop touching me,” she snarled.

“Scared you’ll enjoy it?” Micheal asked in reply, eyebrow quirked upwards as he dropped his fingertips behind her ear.

“Dream on, foot face,” she taunted.

“So are you going to tell me what’s got your knickers in a twist or are you going to keep pretending you don’t want to kiss me right now,” he said bluntly.

“You flatter yourself too much,” she replied coldly, pulling away, “that’s the problem, you have an inflated ego.”

“If that’s your issue with me darling, I don’t think we’re going to get a solution,” Micheal shrugged, folding his arms and leaning back into the wall.

Everything about him was aggravating her, from the tiniest twitch in his features to the octave of his voice. Lia wished for nothing more than to rip his head off of his body and watch it roll across a bloodied floor or maybe tear him limb from limp, torture him slowly and meticulously so every last ounce of pain would bleed from him. She still wasn’t sure he even deserved that mercy.

“That’s not my issue actually,” she quipped, pursing her painted lips.

“Please, enlighten me on this pressing issue you have with me that has caused some serious back damage,” he said, rubbing the soreness, “I hope you have enough money to pay my physio and chiropractor.”

“Daddy’s not lending it to you anymore?” she raised a questioning brow.

“What’s your problem, lay it on me darling,” he sighed, not replying to the previous question and instead putting his hands up as if convicted of a crime, “I won’t bite.” His lips then quirked upwards in that deadly smug expression, “unless you want me to.”

Lia ignored him, her face flat, “you seriously have no clue what you did?”

“Haven’t the foggiest,” he mused, his hand sneakily sliding up her thighs.

She kneed him in the groin, “don’t play with me Micheal, you don’t get to do that.”

“I seriously have no idea,” he winced, knees knocking together, barely choking the words out.

She rolled her eyes at his melodrama and leaned back. She let herself analyse his features, those dark sharp eyebrows that looked too similar to the man he hated, that sharp jawline that’d probably been cracked and patched back a few too many times, those dulling hazel eyes that had seen far too much far too soon.

“Huh,” she laughed a little sadly, “I thought you were better than this.”

Not anger, disappointment. Somehow that was worse to Micheal. A thick lump settled in his throat as he tried to run through all the possibilities. Lia turned, saying no more and began to walk away but he lunged after her and grabbed her wrist, spinning her back around.

“What did I do?” he asked, letting his mask slip.

She met his eyes. He looked so desperate, so longing. She even detected a hint of fear, maybe guilt. She couldn’t help but grin. Unlucky for him, Lia liked to watch pathetic men beg.

She leant closer, “figure it out,” she whispered, each words a staccato beat in this tango they’d been forever dancing.

“You can’t leave me on a cliffhanger,” he said, “besides I think I’ve got permanent brain damage after how hard you just kicked my manly bits.”

“There is nothing manly about your bits,” Lia deadpanned.

He barked out a half-strangled laugh, “that’s not what you said last weekend.”

“I’m a good liar,” she batted her eyelashes with a sickly sweet smile.

He winced again and caught her eye, seriously, “what did I do Lia?”

His voice was low and gritty, there was no games behind this question, no amusement, no innuendos. He genuinely wanted to know what he’d done wrong, she could see the distress seeping from his skin. It almost made her uncomfortable.

She paused for a long while and let him wait until she finally replied quietly, “you spoke to Cassie.”

Michael’s expression shifted, “no need to be jealous,” he straightened, “she’s Dean’s girl.”

“As if I’d be jealous,” Lia rolled her eyes.

He shrugged, “then what’s your problem?”

“The problem is you told her Micheal,“ she growled in a low threatening voice and if it weren’t for the situation Micheal would’ve found it incredibly sexy.

The realisation hit him like a ton of bricks. The conversation he’d had with Cassie. Each word engraved itself into his head, replaying over and over until his stomach turned. Guilt gnawed at his aching bones, not only for what he’d done but his absentmindedness to even doing it.

“Look Lia-“

“So it was you!” she fumed, punching him the the chest, a hard thwack that took his breath away, “I trusted you!”

“I’m sorry,” he said, touching the blossoming bruise tentatively.

“Sorry doesn’t mean shit to me,” she laughed bitterly.

“It’s not what you think,” he rushed, “I didn’t just start blurting your private life to her it’s just-“

“No,” she shouted over him, cutting him off, “I have trust issues as it is and you fucking know that and you still went and did it.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Micheal pressed, “I swear!”

“How convenient,” she countered, clicking her tongue.

“Lia-“

She shook her head, her voice dropping an octave, “I don’t even want to see your face right now.”

But she didn’t move. Her eyes were pinned on the patterned carpet and her very expensive black Valentino’s that she blamed for cementing her in place.

She felt his fingers skim the underside on her chin, too careful for her liking. She wished his touch meant less, that she didn’t feel heat rise within her or a tingling sensation whenever he dared be loving. Micheal tilted her chin up gently, until their faces were level.

“Look at me Lia,” he whispered, voice cracking as he begged, “please.”

She did with a slow reluctance. Lia didn’t want to let herself but something stupid in her started to hurt hearing him so pathetically desperate.

“I didn’t mean to,” he said slowly.

She tried to turn away but he held her firmly in place. She hadn’t noticed until now the hand that wasn’t under his chin was placed firmly on her hip and he had a tight grasp.

“Tell me I’m lying,” Micheal said, grip tightening.

She stayed silent.

“Tell me what I just told you was a lie,” he exclaimed again, “go on.”

Lia took his hands off, backing away, “I’m not doing this.”

“It’s because you can see I’m not,” he yelled after her, “you know I’m not lying and you hate it.”

She whipped her head around and stopped, “you’re getting rusty at this whole emotion reading shit,” she tried to laugh but the sound was too strained.

“She was gonna find out either way,” Micheal rolled his eyes, “you think her sweetheart Dean wouldn’t have told her if she asked?”

“No,” she snapped, “because Dean knows how to stay loyal to people, Dean knows when to keep his mouth shut and Dean knows how vulnerable I have to be to trust a person and he wouldn’t even think of breaking that.”

“But does Dean know how you taste,” he murmured, backing her into the wall, “does Dean know how to kiss you so hard you forget about your problems, does Dean know how to make feel like you deserve to be loved.”

“I don’t feel anything for you,” she glowered, with a glare that could’ve engulfed him in moments if he hadn’t been so goddam determined.

“I’m no lie detector, but I’m going to say that that was a lie,” he said quietly.

“I’m more the physicality Micheal,” she seethed, pushing him away, “but clearly that’s all you see me as, so fuck this and fuck you.”

“I see you as so much more than you think,” he replied, a wisp of sadness dusting his tone, “so so much more Lia.”

“Then why the fuck did you go ahead and gossip to Cassie about things I like I keep private,” she hurled back at him, “what’s so special about her that she has to know everything? We don’t even know if we can trust her!”

“She was going to find your file!” he yelled, exasperated.

Lia paused. Stilled. And for a rare moment she had nothing to say. Micheal had betrayed her but for better reason. He was protecting her by giving Cassie the edited truth of what really happened, he was saving her from yet another person being a potential threat.

But knowing Micheal there was a twist of this game that played to his advantage too, she just needed to figure out what.

“I would’ve rather that,” she replied darkly.

“Lie,” Micheal whispered shakily

“I would’ve rather that then you tell her, I would’ve rather anything than you tell her because I thought you of all people would know how fucking hard that was for me,” she fired back.

“Lia I did,” he begged she would see the truth, “I do!”

“Clearly not,” she scoffed, “your dad was right you’re just a great big disappointment.”

Micheal stared through her, “you don’t mean that, you just want to hurt me.”

“That’s right I want to hurt you,” she growled, grabbing his shirt again savagely, “I want to hurt you how you hurt me!”

“I’m sorry Lia,” he said gently, almost numb.

She could see, she could see how deeply he meant it but she didn’t want to believe it. Lies sometimes had a way of slipping past her, especially ones she didn’t want to see.

“That’s not good enough,” Lia faltered, voice trembling, “it’s not good enough Micheal.”

“Don’t cry,” he said urgently, “it kills me when you cry.”

“If you think I’m shedding a single tear over you,” she replied, trying to patch up the obvious shakes in her voice, “you’re more stupid than I thought.”

His hands began to slide up her back, “come here.”

She ripped herself away with a fierce cruelty, “don’t touch me!”

“Come on Lia-“

“I let you in Micheal, I don’t let people in and you fucking abused that,” she paused and looked up at him slowly, a spitefulness darting in her features, the words on the tip of her tongue already tumbling out, “like father like son.”

He stumbled back as if he’d been struck across the face. Not an unfamiliar feeling yet somehow this stung the most, even though there was no hit at all.

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that,” he shook his head, raising a finger.

“At least I don’t rely on a bottle of whisky to get me through the day,” Lia shrugged.

“No you use your sick and twisted lies instead and create a fantasy that you’re someone better than you are,” he seethed, “so let me be realistic with you Lia, you are not a good person. You are as messed up as I am, but the difference is, you can’t fucking admit it. You go about pretending you’re someone until the real girl under all of this is gone, until Sadie dies.”

She smiled, wide and broad, “you want to talk about pretending,” she barked out a laugh, “you want to talk about pretending?”

He sighed outwardly, “Lia-“

“No, no I’m not done being entirely amused yet,” she smirked, “Sadie’s been dead a long time Micheal but of the two of us, you’re the one who’s scared to admit who you really are.”

“Who am I really then? Care to tell me?” he asked grinning through his pain, arms out ready to be hit by another round of her bullets.

“I’ll let you figure that one out of your own,” she said coolly, turning to walk away, “I do hope you’re not too disappointed with what you find.”

***

the naturals masterlist

Dassie: The Water is Fine - Chloe Ament [Today, Tomorrow, Covered in Blood, I’m Not Going Anywhere]

She enters and swims with the foam

Flashes of her mom, blood, the dressing room, the cult, her dead mom in her arms. A common dream for Cassie to wake up to. It was so suffocating some nights. The way she’d wake up in cold sweat, shaking, unable to distinguish her surroundings.

He bids her come out and come home

Luckily Dean was always there. He held her each night, no matter how late or early it was. Even if she wasn’t awake fully he’d comb through her hair, patting away her sweat with a nearby cloth. If she shook or cried a bit too much, he’d wake her home, give her a place to ground herself and breathe. A place to feel like home when her past home haunts her.

But deeper and colder she goes

Not to say it always works. Like tonight for instance, Cassie isn’t waking up, but she certainly won’t be calming down anytime soon. Dean’s heart hurts, but what can he do except be there for when she wakes up. He hopes that she’ll always wake up.

Michaelia:  Fallen Star - The Neighborhood [Starry Nights and Scar Filled Fights]

Further apart, the closer that we are

Always off and on. Never ever together together. Whenever we fight we always end up tangled up together when we wake up. It’s inevitable for us. Always too much yet never enough.

I'll keep you far away from me like a star

Whenever we try to keep the other close, one of us always gets hurt. Maybe both if we failed to heal our previous burns. I guess that’s why we distance ourselves. It doesn’t truly do anything. We’ll still end up burning each other, but at least our scars are matching.

Hard not to fall for you, I gave you all my heart

Too bad we ruined each other for anyone else. How could we possibly fall for anyone else when we understand each other in a way no one else ever will? How could we when it’s been off, then on, then off again, and on again? How could we when this burning feeling in our heart and when we touch is so addictive?

Further apart, the closer, the closer, the closer that we are

But as always. We’re bound to burn too much and hurt the other in the process. We read past each other's masks, we know of the other in a glance than anyone will ever know in years. But maybe it’s because we know so much that we’re destined to fall.

Devalish: Dandelions - Ruth B : [Picture Perfect Picnic]

'Cause I'm in a field of dandelions

Today is the day! I’m so excited!! Celine said she’ll arrive  by 11:30 am and that’s in…2 minutes 27 seconds. I should check the basket again: cherry pie, tea sandwiches, charcuterie board, and the fruit bowl. WAIT. THE TEA! Oh nevermind it’s in there. The place she picked is so pretty. There’s dandelions everywhere. They’re so fuzzy and pretty.

Wishing on every one that you'd be mine, mine

I blow on a dandelion, the seeds blowing everywhere as the wind scatters it. I look to Celine who’s painting me right now. I think she wants me to spin? Yeah she does. This is fun, I can’t wait to see how the painting turns out.

And I see forever in your eyes

I watch as Celine paints me, she has paint on her dress and dandelion seeds in her hair. She’s so beautiful. I’m glad she’s here, I can’t wait for the next time we do something like this…There will be a next time right? I look back at her and she smiles at me. At me. There’s definitely going to be a next time, I can see it.

I feel okay when I see you smile, smile

Celine shows me the painting and it’s stunning. It looks just like me, but the girl in the painting is beyond beautiful. Is this how she sees me? I like it. I like it a lot. I can’t help, but smile when I see the painted version of me smiling so brightly. I look up at the painter who’s smile is even prettier than the girl in the painting. I love Celine so much.

Striggs: One Thing - One Direction [Coffee and Casefiles]

So, get out, get out, get out of my head

It’s been, what, five years since we got divorced? So why? Why am I still missing you every day and night. Why do I think of you whenever I see anything that’s a bear? It reminds me of your stupid wood carven bear on your desk and the one you stuffed. Why am I still thinking of a guy who stuffs bears???

And fall into my arms instead

Of course the second I see him again I trip. And he just has to catch me. How annoying, I need to get my head in the game. There are killers on the loose right now, five teens who should be living normal lives, not whatever he’s having them do. UGHH everything always leads back to him, this is so stupid. And now I'm thinking of when he caught me again! EW!

I don't, I don't, don't know what it is

I hate the way my heart is starting to race when I see him. The way I slightly choke on my words. The way I feel myself staring. I don’t want to know why, I do, but I don’t want to. 

But I need that one thing

It’s way too early in the morning right now. I need a nice cup of warm instant coffee, but now I have to deal with him. He’s in the way, move! How annoying. I don’t want to see him or his really nice biceps or his phat ass really defined butt.

And you've got that one thing

This jerk. He took the last coffee. What is wrong with him?! No, he doesn’t get to look at me all confused like he didn’t just- oh he handed the mug to me. Maybe he really didn’t know. This is the same pack we used to use all the years ago! Wait…Didn’t he already take a sip of this?

Scarlett and Judd: A Thousand Miles - Vanessa Carlton  [It’s Been Awhile, Hi]

'Cause everything's so wrong and I don't belong

It’s been some time huh? It’s weird there’s a whole bunch of kids in the house now. One reminds me of you a little. Her name’s Sloane. I think you’d like her a lot. I think you’d like them all a lot. Sometimes I look at Sloane and see you though. I know it’s not right, but it helps. I’m glad I have them though. It was hard, so incredibly hard to lose you. I lost my place for a little bit, only found a place to belong because of them.

Living in your precious memory

Your room is still untouched. I know I should let Cassie, probably Sloane, take it. But I can’t let go. It’s everything you were, everything you could’ve been. It’s one of my last things of yours and I know you’d call me sentimental and that I should just pass it down, but I can’t. I’ve tried and I always fail. I’ll sit in your room, seeing you as a little girl, oh my little girl. You’re so precious to me. I hope you knew that.

'Cause I'll need you

It’s funny how much has changed. Do you remember when we would make pancakes? I’d pretend the batter was too hard to stir and you’d take over. You’d giggle and smile as you mixed the chocolate chips in, asking me what I’d do if you weren’t there. I guess we found out. 

And I'll miss you