You personally wouldn’t consider Michael your…boyfriend. But, that’s what the two of you told everyone. It was easier that way. Michael was far too preoccupied with well, everything to actually commit to whatever was between the two of you.

He was so back and forth with you. One moment, it was like you were the center of his universe—next, it was like you never existed in it. He could days without talking to you, not even acknowledging your presence.

You knew somewhere, deep down inside of him, a part of him did care for you. He’d leave little notes, or things you knew you liked without you ever telling him—even in his isolated stupors, he’d pay mind to you in some way. You knew he cared—loved you in some way, in times his eyes would burn when he argued with you, or when he’d tell you what was on his mind. You’d begun to carry the burden of what his life was truly like.

But, you loved him. In some weird, possibly fucked up way. Love couldn’t be defined in one way—so, loving an incredibly loving and damaged Michael Afton came naturally.