1D AF

Favourite Record (Your Fav)

A/N- bc theres no name, just imagine it's your fav

~

I couldn't forget a single thing about her, no matter how hard I tried. It was as if I'd forgotten how to forget memories.
I guess a part of me didn't want to let go of the happiest times of my life.

I wonder if she remembered the way we drove for hours with no intended destination but just for the pleasure of being in each others company. How we started in the evening, when the skies were awash with colour, how we drove through the night as the colour faded to black, and were still driving as the sun rose and the colours returned, vibrant as ever. I wonder if she remembered how we'd blast music of any and every genre and dance along in the car, windows down, hair flying every direction in the wind. We could do that for hours, her riding shotgun, and me behind the wheel. The stretches of road were long and quiet, so I took every opportunity to glance over at her sitting next to me and notice how the purple dawn skies and clouds cast beautiful shadows upon her skin. I wonder if she'd remember the conversations we had in that slightly worn down car of mine; every time we cried or burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter or talked until our voices cracked and we could only listen to the howling of the wind.

She was stuck in my head the same way her favourite songs got so easily stuck in hers. I replayed her laughs, her smiles, compliments she'd given me or deep words she'd said, as if on a loop. The happiness I felt when thinking about the times I spent with her was like listening to every song I've ever loved- I was completely enveloped in memories, both good and bad.

I remembered the first time we broke up. I remember us bumping into each other weeks later at a crossing just before midnight, and being forced to wait together as we were both drenched in the rain. The strength of the few street lamps faltered, and so did my confidence to talk to her, so I remained silent, despite my mind running wild with what I could, or should say.
She turned to me, hair sticking to her forehead, makeup slightly smudged, and eyes narrow, her voice laced with an iciness comparable only to the feeling of the winter air whipping my skin. "How are you doing?"
She was mocking me, she had to be. It was as if she knew how much better off I was, or she genuinely thought that I was. Oh, how wrong she was.
All I could do was stare at her, heavy-eyed, with pale, sunken cheeks accentuated by the crappy lighting, and lazily raise my eyebrows. "Quite alright, love. But I'd be better off with you."
I strolled off onto the road and crossed, trying to leave her behind as the lights turned green. I didn't know what to say, I didn't know whether I should get her back, and even if I wanted to, I had probably ruined my chances by walking away.
A few seconds later I remember hearing a crack of thunder, wheels screeching on the road, the horns of cars blaring and the sounds of people yelling in frustration. I remember wildly turning around, fearing that she was hurt, blinking the rain from my eyes and watching her blink tears from her own.
Of course she had waited til the lights were red before she made up her mind to come after me.
"C-c-can, can we fix this? Can we fix us?"
I held her in my arms as I'd done countless times before, rubbing circles on her back as she poured her heart out to me and begged to try and makes things right again.
I thought we could.
I thought we did.

I remembered coming home at three in the morning to be greeted by her warm hugs and light kisses. I remember pulling her by the hand further into the living room, pushing aside the coffee table to make room to dance. There was no music on, but we danced anyway, swaying slowly back and forth, leaning on each other. If anything, we danced to the sounds of our hearts, beating in time.
But when we did have music playing, it was nothing less than her favourite records. The record player in the corner, her only antiquity, playing out the rhythms we danced to.
I jokingly spun her around on the tips of her feet, just like her records spun on the player. She spun around and around, beaming and giggling until she couldn't spin anymore, falling to her knees from dizziness. She insisted I suffer the same fate, standing on tip toes to spin me. I spun, crouching to fit under her arm and mouthing the lyrics of her music I'd grown to love, the same music that we could play again and again and never get enough of.
When she got tired, she stood on my feet with her arms around my waist and her head buried in my chest. I remembered how I would smile down at her limp figure and soon enough carry her to bed, where her hand would always find a way to entwine with mine.
I smiled down now at the memory, yet swallowed and licked my dry lips at the feeling of emptiness in my hands, the lack of warmth that had come from holding onto my car's steering wheel rather than the hand of the girl I loved. That's where I was now, alone and a little scared, in the car that held infinite memories between the two of us. I accelerated down a highway of an unknown town, windows up with no music; leaving me alone to my thoughts.

She always got what she wanted but it was never enough. I spun for her when we danced, I drove for her to see amazing places, I waited for her to make up her mind, I forgave her for what she said and what she did, I was willing to do anything for her happiness. To see her smile the way she did, was enough to make me happy and that's how we worked together. But of course, for her, it was never enough, nothing was ever enough.
She wanted more and said I wasn't the one who could do that for her, so we ended it again, and this time I couldn't see myself agreeing to take her back.
If I did, we'd only end up like her favourite records on the record player, going in circles again and again.