(Edited)

Michael stormed out of the cafeteria without a care in the world that people were whispering about him. He absolutely hated people for this exact reason; they could mind their own freaking business. Michael cursed at them all, making himself angrier.

"Shit," He cursed loudly, after punching his fist into the locker in front of him. It hurt an immense amount, but it was either this or walking back in there and making that brats life a living hell.

He knew he couldn't be angry with Autumn; she wasn't responsible. It was all that good for nothing, piece of being, Tiffany's fault. The bloody nerve of that girl for trying to kiss me.

Michael's blood was boiling; he couldn't believe how stupid she was. She knew from the very beginning that he didn't kiss the girls he slept with, but that didn't stop her from trying her luck. Michael had been lenient with her, but this was the final straw, she was going down.

After kicking and punching the lockers a few more times to get his aggression out, Michaels guilt finally kicked in. He felt so bad for yelling at Autumn. She didn't deserve it in the least; she was just a curious little kitten. Her face, when he screamed at her, broke his heart. It was the saddest thing he had seen since her...

No, I'm not thinking about that, Michael thought bitterly. He wasn't going to stir up the past; it deserved to stay dead where he buried it.

Michael heard footsteps behind him and sighed loudly. He pushed himself away from the locker and turned around with a scowl on his face.

"What the hell do you want?" he asked.

When he saw who was standing in front of him, he was surprised. What did he expect, today was full of those. He masked the shock with a straight face and waited expectantly for Autumn to answer him. Autumn's tiny figure stood in front of him with crossed arms, looking absolutely enchanting. She looked at his bleeding fist and furrowed her eyebrows.

I screamed at her, and she still cares, fantastic, Michael thought, sarcastically. Michael hid his fist behind his back and glared at her. Her concern dropped faster than he could blink after what he just did. She took a bold step forward, closing the space between them.

"Don't ever yell at me like that again." She threatened, looking up at him. She was scary, for someone her height, but he thought it was more amusing if anything.

Michael liked this side of her. He liked all sides of her, he realized. Bit by bit, he was figuring her out; so far, he could tell when she wasn't telling the truth, when she was being fake and when she was hiding something. You're a mystery sweetheart, one I would like to unravel.

Michael turned them around, gently pushing her against the lockers. He leaned closer to her, their lips almost touching. He smirked when he felt her shiver at his touch.

"Or what Sunshine?" he asked.

Autumn stared at him, her mouth gaped open, she was shocked and felt something that she couldn't describe, she was slightly frozen. Before Michael could make another smart ass comment she snapped out of it ad pushed him away. He complied.

Autumn stood straight; her mask was back. "Don't test me, Michael. You wont like what I'm capable of!"

Michael tilted his head to the side, examining her facial features. She had a small number of freckles on her nose, making her button nose even cuter. Her eyes were his favourite; they spoke wonders. He couldn't figure out why he had ever stayed away from her. He knew why they chose to do it, but for the life of him, every cell in his body was regretting it.

Autumn punched his shoulder to get his attention. "Are you even listening to me?" Honestly, he wasn't, she was mesmerizing to him. He could help but stare at her, so many hours would have passed, and he wouldn't have cared.

Michael raised his hand to scratch his neck; something he did when he was embarrassed or nervous. When his arm was mid-air, Autumn flinched back covering her face with her arms. His blood ran cold. Did she think I was going to hit her? Her face answered his question.

Her eyes widened with the realization of what she just did. It was written all over her; she was afraid. Of him, Michael didn't know. Before Michael could even register what went on, she was dashing down the hall, her blonde hair the only thing he saw.

He slumped down against the lockers and buried his head between his knees. He was utterly confused. Was it possible that she was afraid of him? That was a thought he couldn't fathom. What bothered him though was her reaction, it was instant, like second nature to her. The look on her face when she realized what she had done was shocking; as if she didn't want him or anyone to know.

She mentioned her mother hitting harder than that, Michael whispered.

At the time Michael brushed it off as wittiness, trying to aggravate them, but know he was rethinking everything. So many things were running through his mind: pictures of her, occurrences, fractured ribs, whatever he could think of that would give a hint of what she was hiding. Maybe there were signs, and he absolutely missed them.

One thing was for sure, Michael was going to pay, extra close attention to her now.

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