Possessively Yours

Micah’s POV

“This is the luckiest day of my life! NOT!” I gritted my teeth and stepped out of my car, trembling with anger. I was just driving peacefully to work when someone suddenly crashed into my car.

My fucking precious car!

“You fucker! Why are you in my way?!” My mouth hung open when the brat driving the car that crashed into mine shouted nonsense at me. And it looked like he was the one mad at me. In disbelief, I pointed at the traffic light.

“Can’t you see it’s red?! Are you fucking blind or are you stupid?!” What a dickhead! People were already staring at us, and we were causing traffic, but what the hell do I care? I will beat this punk to a pulp!

“I’ll fucking put you in jail, you madman!” I looked at him in disbelief.

“No, I’ll put you in jail, you crazy punk!” Annoyed, I took my phone from my pants pocket to call the police station, but it seemed I didn’t need to. A few police officers approached us, and this was truly my fucking lucky day because Alford Garcia, the guy I loathed the most, was one of them. He looked so gorgeous and sexy in his uniform, and I hated it so much. I shook my head. Why am I finding him sexy? This is fucking creeping me out.

I froze when he immediately approached me and, without a word, gently dabbed my forehead with his handkerchief.

“Are you okay, Mic? Your eyebrow is bleeding; did he do something to you?” I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Mic? Why does that sound like we’ve known each other for so long already? Well, I have known him for a long time, but I doubt he knows me that well. Why is he acting like a friend? Did he really think we became friends after that drink last week at Hyno’s bar? He’s delusional.

“Y-Yeah, I’m okay. Just my car.” Here I am again, saying the exact opposite of what’s inside my head. I want to curse everyone right now. Why am I so fucking lucky? NOT.

“Yes, I’m going to make sure he’ll pay for what he did to you and to your car.” He turned his back on me and faced the man who was still shouting and cursing at the police. Fuck, is he under the influence of illegal drugs? But I was baffled by what Alford said. Is that something a proper police officer would say, especially when he hasn’t even asked us what happened yet? But I couldn’t care less; I just want this day to end.

“He’s high, he used illegal drugs, and he drove a stolen car that crashed into yours,” Alford explained to me. I’m here at the precinct. The punk’s relatives will pay me for the car and the danger he put me through. The bastard was also arrested for illegal drug use and many other things I didn’t really listen to.

My head is spinning because of the heat and the incident. Fuck, I really hate summer.

“Good thing he didn’t attack you. You shouldn’t do that again, Mic. You shouldn’t have yelled back at him. What if he had a knife or a gun?” My forehead wrinkled at his tone. Is he my mother? Are we close? He sounds like a parent. Fucking annoying.

“I’m a guy; I can handle myself.” I massaged my forehead. My migraine is acting up; the heat triggered it. It’s so hot I feel like passing out.

“Even so, the guy is not in his right mind. Please always be careful, Mic.” I snapped my eyes at him, confused. Is this for real? I’m genuinely confused—did I ever agree to be friends with him? Why is he acting like this? We’ve only talked once. Are police officers really like this?

“Fine, fine. I just want to rest; goodbye.” I was about to exit when he walked beside me and showed me his car keys.

“You still can’t drive your damaged car; I’ll drive you to your house.” The guy I hated the most is driving me to my house. What is happening? Are we best friends now? When did I sign up for this? Although baffled, I just nodded. My head is killing me right now, and I don’t want to wait for a taxi.

I got into his car, and he quickly maneuvered it. I wanted to laugh. Now I’m even sitting comfortably inside his very expensive-looking car. Damn odd. Why is this happening to me?

I took my phone and called Lovemir, the owner of the restaurant I work at, who just got back from Italy. He answered my call immediately.

“Where are you? You’re already two hours late,” Love said in his usual monotone voice.

“I can’t go to work now, Love. I got into an accident, but I’m fine. I’ll talk to you later. My head is acting up.” I hung up immediately and closed my eyes. I really can’t stand headaches.

“Your girlfriend?” I almost forgot I was inside Alford’s car because of this stupid migraine.

“I’m single,” I answered. “And Lovemir is a guy,” I managed to murmur. I didn’t want to talk anymore. My head was seriously killing me.

“That’s good.” My forehead creased even more. What does he mean by that?

“Are you okay? Is it your head? I’ll buy you some meds.” I managed to nod before I passed out.

“So you’re saying you and Ford were in the same car together? And you two talked like friends?” Hyno asked, laughing.

I nodded. What happened earlier this morning still confused me. I mean, I’m not overreacting or anything, but his actions are getting to me. He even bought me medicine for my headache earlier when I passed out in his car. And he didn’t even wake me up, even though we were parked outside my house for almost half an hour. He waited for me to wake up. And I still don’t know how he knew my home address.

It’s creeping me out.

“Don’t make that creeped-out look on your face, man. You know everything about him too—well, except his personality that is getting to you now—”

“It is not getting to me. I don’t care at all even if he comes to know we’re...” I paused. We are what? Related? “Ugh, we shouldn’t be friends. I didn’t hate him for years just for us to become friends.”

Hyno laughed at me.

“Well, he’s acting like you two are friends now. Or, you know,” Hyno looked straight into my hazelnut eyes, “like, I think he’s fruity.” It didn’t register with me at first, but my eyes widened when I got what he was saying.

“What?! Are you saying he likes me?!” I was totally floored by this sudden, baseless information. I know I always attract men because of my body and face. I’m not a twink, but I have fair skin, an almost lean, average build, red lips, a straight-edged nose like Angelina Jolie's, and long, thick eyelashes, and let’s not even talk about my waist, thighs, and butt.

I actually hate it because everyone thinks I’m a bottom when I don’t even swing that way. I’m not against it or anything; I just hate it when some men sexualize me because of how I look. I support different sexualities, not to mention Hyno is bisexual, which is why everyone assumes I am too. But I can’t imagine a drop-dead gorgeous hunk like Alford Garcia swinging that way, and even if he does, I don’t fucking care.

“Yeah? Like, do you see how he looks at you? Or did you get blinded by your stupid hatred?” Hyno talked like he was so sure about it. I flipped him the bird.

“My hatred towards him is not stupid, and dude, just because you’re gay doesn’t mean everyone else swings that way too.”

Hyno gasped at what I said. He clutched his chest like I’d stabbed him with my words.

“Duh? I don’t think everyone is fruity. I’m just saying what I saw, you idiot. I saw Alford’s lustful stare every time he looks at you—how he scans your face and how his eyes stop and stare at your lips like he wants to devour them so bad. Man, don’t you know how your body and face arouse men?”

Of course I know! I’ve been harassed by those horny bastards so many times because of this body of mine. But now he’s saying Alford Garcia is one of those horny nuts? I hate that guy and all, but I don’t think that does him justice. Alford Garcia can get anyone he wants with just one wink, so why would he want me? And why am I even entertaining this stupid hypothesis of Alford liking me?

“Oh, fuck off! You talk too much. Why did the conversation even go here?” Hyno just rolled his eyes at me. I shook my head at him and downed the liquor in the glass I had been holding. I sighed. I don’t want to think of that bastard anymore. Why am I even thinking about that guy? I think a vein snapped in my head because of my migraine earlier.

“Hey, Chef.” I snapped out of my thoughts when I heard Lovemir call me. My boss. I had actually been waiting for him because he invited me here to Hyno’s bar earlier; he just arrived from Italy yesterday.

“You’re late, Love,” Hyno snorted. I just chuckled and motioned for Love to sit right next to me.

“Well, I’m sorry. A friend of mine almost killed me just now for reasons I don’t even know; that’s why I’m late.” He sounded pissed. Hyno handed him a glass and some liquor.

“Maybe your friend finds your face annoying, because I do too.”

“Just say you’ve longed for my handsome face, Hynodale.” The two started bickering. I shook my head. I don’t even dare call Hyno by his full name because he will nag me about it all day, and that’s the last thing I want.

“Lovemir.”

We all froze at that cold, hard voice that was far too familiar to me. I looked at the man who spoke, and our eyes met. Alford.

“Ford,” said Love. I looked at the two, confused.

“You two know each other?” I asked.

Lovemir nodded and stood up. He moved to a seat two stools away from me. And then Ford was the one who sat right next to me.

My headache felt like it was coming back because of the incomprehensible weirdness of these two, especially Alford.

“He’s my friend. You two know him as well?”

“Yeah, the three of us had a drink last week. Didn’t know he was your friend.” Hyno was the one who answered Love. I didn’t take my eyes off the glass I was holding.

I could smell his musky scent, and my light headache oddly disappeared.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I’m alone and lonely, so can I join you guys for a drink?” Ford smoothly asked in his deep baritone voice that was dangerously low. His voice always makes me uncomfortable and uneasy. Maybe because I hate him?

“Of course you can join!” Hyno beamed.

“Can I, Mic?” He surprisingly asked me, which made me stiffen. When I snapped out of it, I quickly glanced at him and nodded.

“Of course.” Fuck. Did I just get nervous? Because of him? Not fucking good.