Together Under Our Roof

Michael walked away in the chill hurriedly. He was only blocks from the complex and had hid himself when he saw Misty going into the building, too scared to see what her reaction would be if she saw him. He was ashamed of himself. He had hurt an innocent girl with his own anger. He had let his anger out unnecessarily and had gotten violent with a girl, something he had vowed never to do again. He slapped the back of his head, shaming himself to remind himself who he was. He mumbled curses at himself, his head bent down low as his self punishment continued.

Suddenly, he felt a heavy crush to his head and fell backwards, dazed. He had walked into a telephone pole. He rubbed his head, feeling pain shoot through his head. Angrily, he looked up to the pole and glared at it, as if it would burn down. Grumbling, he rubbed his head when suddenly, he distantly heard a voice call to him, and then he felt a hand on his shoulder as it slowly turned him around.

When he looked to see who had come to him, he was surprised to see Misty’s worried face. She was speaking to him but he heard nothing. He stared at her, not sure what was going on anymore. Suddenly, Misty had lifted him up and was whisking him away to a far off land.

In minutes, they had entered a small café at the corner of the street and were seated at a small table towards the back. Misty ran through swing doors by the back and was back with a small bag. Lightly, she placed the bag on Michael’s head. Pains shot through him again before soothing to the cold bag of ice. He grunted as the bump on his head got larger.

He watched as Misty moved to the chair across from his. She had a frown on her face and did not look happy.

She stared at Michael intently, watching him as he stared back. She wasn’t looking for anything but felt that she needed to see him. Michael opened his mouth to say something but Misty interrupted him before he could.

“Where the hell do you think you can go?” she exclaimed, questioning him sternly. Michael only looked at her with wide eyes. He looked scared. Misty sighed and tried to ask again, in a calmer tone.

“Look Michael, you said you had nowhere to go so I can’t let you leave. Mira asked me to let you stay and I would like to keep my word,” Misty said to Michael.

“Look Misty, I am really sorry for what I did to you. It was inacceptable and I should have had better control. If I were to stay with you, I don’t think I could keep myself from hurting you again because I have a problem and I can’t help it if I’m angry. I’m just not confident I could keep you safe,” Michael said worriedly. He was afraid, but when he looked up from his hands, he saw that Misty had listened to him and had not looked annoyed or scared. She just listened. Michael continued, “I just can’t hurt someone again, especially someone as young as you. I can’t trust myself Misty.” He sighed and buried his face in his hands, ashamed.

“Don’t worry, Michael was it? Misty is able to take care of herself. If she allows you to stay with her, then trust her, she can fend for herself. She won’t let anyone hurt her,” a middle-aged woman said, pushing through the swing doors Misty had emerged from.

The woman looked to be in her early thirties. She was slender and tall, her brown hair long, past her waist. Her skin was smooth and white, almost transparent. She had a bright smile on her small round face as she moved around tables, bringing drinks to customers who greeted her familiarly. She looked at Misty and then to Michael. Her Dark green eyes gave him a reassuring look and turned to a man behind the front counter and kissed him lightly before returning to the back through the doors.

The man she kissed blushed as he watched her disappear, and then turned to Misty and Michael. Embarrassed, he ducked his head down before looking back up again. He was a handsome man. He was tall, and muscular. His hair was spiked up, away from his blue eyes and thickly rimmed glasses.

“Trisha’s right boy, Misty’s as strong as a bull. No one can hurt her,” the man said. Michael looked confused. The man sensed this and laughed. “Sorry kid. My name’s Dylan Ronald. That lady was my fiancée, Trisha Fairland, and if you look at her, I’ll personally plan your funeral,” the man laughed. Michael looked at misty who only looked out a distant window, uninterested.

“Misty baby, could you tell Trisha that there’s an order of a cake please,” Dylan asked as he gave change to a man at the counter. Misty moved out of her chair slowly and walked to the doors before peering through the doors.

Dylan glared at Michael as he brought out a large kitchen knife. Michael almost shrieked, but because he was scared, he stayed quiet. Michael watched Dylan as he waved the blade around, frightening the man before him but many of the other customers only grinned, as if intentionally adding to the fear Michael felt. Michael flinched as Dylan brought the large blade down with a loud thud. Michael flinched as he felt the thud almost and froze.

“Don’t you dare hurt her, protect her,” Dylan ordered aggressively. Misty rushed out of the door, trays balanced skillfully on each hand as she bustled from table to table with several orders. With the knife hidden, Dylan kept an eye on Misty as he watched Michael shiver. He grinned slightly before laughing loudly. His laughter was soon joined by giggles from the several round tables that scattered the small café.

“I mean no harm, but if you do hurt her,” Dylan warned, “you will regret losing a finger or something.” Slowly and dramatically, Dylan turned away. Michael was sure he heard some screams from somewhere before Trisha emerged from the doors with a large box in her hands.

“Let me help you with that,” Michael offered as he stood to grab the large box from Trisha’s delicate hands.

“Thank you,” Trisha said flattered. Trisha released the box and walked over to her fiancée.

“So what’s in the box?” Michael asked. He carried the box over to the counter where the man at the counter waited anxiously.

“A cake for this nice man,” Trisha replied happily. Quickly, the man grabbed the box, said a word of thanks and ran off. Startled by the man’s behavior, the group was quiet. They all looked at each other and giggled at the man.

Misty walked up behind Michael, cups clanking as she moved around Michael.

“So you’ll be back at the apartment tonight, right Michael?” Misty insisted sternly. Michael watched as she twirled around tables. Michael was reluctant to risk her safety but where would he go? Michael sighed and looked down to his feet. Trisha nudged him in the stomach and nodded as if telling him that it was the right thing to do. Dylan only gave him a firm look. Misty returned and this time stopped before him and looked at him straight in the eyes, warning him that there was only one answer.

“Alright, I’ll go back with you,” Michael sighed, giving in to the pressure as Trisha jumped with glee and Dylan growled slightly. Misty disappeared through the doors as Trisha clapped loudly and cheered unnecessarily.

Misty felt odd. Why had she insisted that that man was to live with her? She would have been okay living alone, why did she all of a sudden feel the need to invite him back to the apartment when she had finally gotten it back to herself? Was she feeling pity for the man because he had nowhere to go and he would be leaving to go nowhere? Misty felt confused. Frustrated, she gave up looking for a reason and went back to work.