Maroon

That's a real fucking legacy to leave

A/N :

Hi !

This was written after I cried like an idiot on my birthday because a girl didn't want my midnights (still hoping because I'm delusional)

Uhh, really I have an idea for a better fic with them but I'm busy with uni work, but maybe one day I'll post something better than that because they deserve better content.

"I miss you..." The brunette felt her voice crack. "Don't even bother to call me back, even though you probably didn't plan to. Just... I love you, 19."

She hung up and laid back against her bed, legs spread out on the floor. Then she broke the night's everlasting silence as she sobbed. She brought her hands to her face and cried, smudging her own makeup all over. She didn't care anymore about the hours she'd spent trying to act as if she was fine, acting as if she could still enjoy a night out with her friends when all she could think about was the girl she couldn't keep.

All that mattered now was that she was crying on the floor at midnight on her 18th birthday, remnants of a cake she didn't even want to eat sitting by the plate next to her, and she was so cold in her bra and jeans but couldn't for the life of herself bring herself to get up to grab a sweater. All she wanted was to hear her voice. To tell her she loved her again, once again, because it made her feel more alive than everything else ; but the short-haired girl didn't answer anymore. No call, no text, no sign of life since last week because Midnights had called again. Because she was the one who always called now.

Even though it was 1989 that reached out after 6 months saying she thought of her.

Worst thing was, Midnights couldn't even get mad at her. Because she loved her so, so much, even after 3 months of crying in the bathtub thinking about everything that went wrong. And she wondered if 1989 still had a boyfriend ; she wondered if she was still with the jerk her beloved went back to after her stupid drunken mistake.

All because she had listened to Reputation saying everyone went back to their ex in the end — so she told her to get her mind off things. And never Midnights had regretted a kiss more than the drunken one with the girl that went home with a neck turned maroon. She wished she could get her out of her mind ; her moans, the way she tasted her lips the way only 1989 should've. The way Midnights desperately sucked her neck hoping it would erase all the pain.

It made it worse. And when their friends separated them saying they were too drunk for this, Midnights wanted to kill the part of her that wanted more. She wanted to puke and cry. Even more when she looked at her phone when the girl left the party and saw three missed calls.

I wish you were here.

She didn't answer for two days, and 1989 texted relentlessly as Midnights felt her guts twist and turn in her stomach in some sick motion. Then she told her. And she was hurt.

Next time they saw each other, he had an arm around her shoulder : and Midnights cried all over again, the movie replaying in her head.

When they met at Reputation's party, when they shared their insecurities and laughed like never before — Midnights never believed in magic until she met her. When they flirted endlessly, sharing passions and fears and talking about stars and poetry and how no one else understood.

Prom night, when Midnights fell in love. When Harry wasn't here but 1989 was, and she flirted again, leaving Midnights breathless and aching and longing for more, and she asked her to be hers for the night. When the short haired girl danced and it looked like she was sparkling. When Midnights realized she couldn't get her eyes off her, when she realized the world had narrowed to one girl and her heart stopped when she laughed and flipped her hair back.