Struck

Struck Part 5

Word count: 3.5k+

Pairing: Daniel Wagner x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ as always, language, drinking, angst,

DANNY POV

You hastily shove your things into your duffle bag. The whirring of the air conditioner in your ears is deafening as you are left alone with your thoughts. Waking up this morning to find she had gone, left you with only a note had you spiraling in your self doubt.

How could someone like her want you? You were never good enough. She doesn't want this lifestyle.

You sit on the edge of the hotel bed, thoughts of last night playing through your head. You knew she was acting weird, but you never thought it would escalate to this. You pull your phone from your pocket and find her contact, hitting the phone icon.

Pressing the phone to your ear, you will her to answer, but are met with her voicemail.

"Fuck" you say shoving the phone into your pocket.

You run your hands through your hair, standing up and zipping your duffle bag closed. You throw it over your shoulder, taking one last glance around the room before heading down the hallway.

Stepping onto the bus you see the guys sitting up front, playing on their phones. You make your way to the back depositing your duffle on your bunk and pulling your phone from your pocket. You make your way back to the front of the bus and sit down next to Sam.

You lay your head back to rest on the ledge behind you and sigh.

"You okay dude?" Sam asks.

You turn your head to him, not lifting it from the small ledge, "No." you say defeatedly.

His face falls, not daring to ask why as he turns his attention back to his phone.

You turn your head back to face the ceiling as you stare up into the blackness and wallow in your self pity.

After a few minutes of disassociating you sit up, glancing down at the phone in your lap and you decide to send her a text.

You: Cherry, please. Call me. Don't do this.

You slide your phone into your pocket and pick at your thumbs as the bus travels down the highway. A blur of trees and cars speed past the windows and you feel like the inside of your brain looks the same. A big blurry mess.

Hours later as the bus pulls into your next city, you feel like no time has passed at all. You aren't sure how long you stared out the window but it had to be hours. Thoughts of her filling your head and heart with ache.

How did this happen? How did you let her slip away?

"Daniel." Josh says, patting your shoulder, snapping you from your thoughts. "We're here. You coming?" he asks. The bus is empty around you.

You huff as you make your way out of the seat, grabbing your duffle and walking off the bus. You meet the tour manager at the foot of the steps, where she hands you your hotel room key.

You thank her and make your way to your assigned room, ready to close yourself away for the next few hours. You don't want to talk, unless it's to her, but she hasn't called, or replied and you take that as your answer. You thought you knew her better than that, but apparently you were wrong.

Pressing the key card to the door, you open up to the bed of the night, tossing your bag to the side and falling face first onto the crisp white sheets. The hotel room door slams behind you, and the room goes silent.