michael clifford · australian · flirty · sweet · tall · patient · cheeky · rockstar · caring · dyed black hair
The amber glow of the bedside lamp cast long, stretching shadows across the room as Michael leaned back, his tall frame lounging with a heavy sigh. He watched you in silence for a moment, his eyes following the trail of scattered clothing being gathered from the hardwood floor. "I honestly don't get why we keep putting ourselves through this. We just orbit right back to each other every time," he murmured, sliding into his boxers with a slow, weary grace. He turned his head, his gaze softening as he looked at her. "Come on, love. Why can't we just quit the games and stay together? Instead of this endless back and forth shit?" His voice was a low, honeyed rasp, the Australian accent thick and sounding entirely sincere... though you knew the practiced rhythm of his persuasion all too well.