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The music and the dancing halt as everyone turns to look at us.
Michael grabs my hand and leads me out of the club. I stumble after him, still feeling dizzy from the alcohol and the adrenaline.
Once we're outside, Michael stops and turns to face me.
I see him disappointed and angry.
"What the fuck were you thinking!" he snaps, his voice harsh.
I shrink back, feeling a little scared. "I-I…" I stutter, fumbling with my words.
"You know what? I don't even want to know. Get into the car.” He doesn't wait for me as he goes to the driver's side. I rush to the passenger's side and get in.
Michael pulls out of the parking lot and into the busy streets.
I sit in the passenger seat, my hands folded tightly in my lap. It’s quiet in the car except for the sound of the engine, and tension is in the air.
I steal a glance at Michael out of the corner of my eyes. He is gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turn white. His jaw is clenched, and his eyes are fixed on the road ahead. I can feel his anger radiating off of him, making me nervous.
Oh shit…
When we pull up to the house, Michael gets out of the car without a word. I follow him along the walkway, but he's walking too fast for me to keep up.
This is such a mess, and I’m in big trouble…
"I'm sorry," I try apologizing, but he doesn't respond. He scoffs and walks faster, ignoring me.
I'm getting annoyed now. Why does Michael have to be so upset? It's not like my life was in any danger. I was trying to have a good time. Yes, things got a little messy, but everything is good now.
"What's your problem?" I ask. "I just apologized. The least you can do is acknowledge me."
He stops and turns to face me, his eyes blazing with anger.
"My problem is that you can't seem to take responsibility for your safety," he says, staring at me with his angry face. I scoff, folding my arms across my chest.
"You knew you weren't supposed to leave the house without telling me. And yet you went out anyway."
I feel my anger rising now. "You can't just lock me up like a prisoner," I say. "I'm an adult; I can make my own decisions."
"You're damn right you're an adult," he says. "And as an adult, you should know better than to put yourself in danger like that for the second time!"
"I wasn't in danger," I protest. "Before you came in, I had everything under control!"
He lets out a sarcastic laugh.
"Of course you did!" He responds in mockery.
"Michael, it wasn't a big deal!"
His expression transcends anger to hurt, and it does something to me.
"You didn't think it was a big deal?" he repeats incredulously, his voice trembling. "Do you know what could have happened to you out there? You could have been kidnapped or worse. And I would have had no idea where you were."
My heart fell to the pit of my stomach, the seriousness of the situation sinking in.
He closes on me, standing barely inches away and towering over me. My breath catches in my throat, and I look up at him. His expression is softer, filled with worry.
My heart starts to beat rapidly against my chest.
