Why Don't We One Shots

Worried, Daniel Seavey

The night felt long and endless, stretching out in front of her like a road with no end. Y/N lay in the bed they'd shared not long ago, the sheets still warm but oddly empty without him. She tried to bury her thoughts under the covers, to close her eyes and pretend that everything was okay, but the stillness around her only made the doubts louder.

She hadn't meant to overthink it. She knew he was busy, but there was something about the way Daniel had been lately, the way his texts came less often, how his voice sounded strained over the phone. She wondered, half-joking but mostly serious, if maybe he was just tired. But what if it wasn't that simple?

What if he was pulling away? What if he didn't care as much as he once did?

Her phone lay next to her, face down, a constant reminder of the space between them. She had noticed it earlier when she scrolled through her messages, the long pauses in his replies. The way he said he was sorry, that he couldn't talk now because of soundcheck or because of the show. She understood, she really did. But it still gnawed at her. She couldn't help but wonder if it was just the distance between them—literally, the miles separating him from her. Or something else entirely.

The sound of the phone vibrating next to her made her jump. She picked it up, half-expecting a message, but it was just a notification, another reminder of the quiet she felt in her chest. She turned the phone over, staring at the dim light of the screen as if it might somehow bring answers. The empty space felt heavy. She couldn't stop thinking about it. The last few days felt strange—like he was there, but he wasn't really there. She was trying really hard not to be dramatic and not to overthink it, but it was a feeling she couldn't shake, and she started to remember all the little things that seemed to be nothing at first, but would all together have a different meaning. The way he would smile when they Facetimed, but his eyes would dart away, or the way his responses were brief, clipped, almost distant.

The words came easily enough when she was alone with her thoughts, but now, in the stillness of their bed, it was harder to find the courage to speak. She picked up her phone again, debating for a moment, then found herself typing out a message, only to erase it just as quickly. She couldn't ask him outright. She couldn't just assume.

Then the silence pressed in again, and her hand hovered over the call button. He'd been on the road for so long, surrounded by fans and the chaos of touring. Was it possible he didn't have the space left for her? The thought made her stomach drop.

Finally, her fingers moved. She hit the call button before her mind could change it.

The phone rang.

Once. Twice. Three times. She felt the nervousness creeping up her spine, felt the hesitation in the pit of her stomach. She held her breath, wondering if he was going to answer, wondering if he would say the one thing that would either reassure her or break her heart. And then the voicemail kicked in.

She sighed, her shoulders sinking as the phone beeped and the message began. She didn't leave one. The words wouldn't come.

She locked the phone, set it aside, and turned back to the empty side of the bed. Her doubts swirled around her like a storm, but she tried to ignore them. She closed her eyes, tried to focus on the rise and fall of her breath, tried to find some way to make the loneliness fade.

But then, as if by some miracle, the phone buzzed. It was a missed call from him.

She picked it up quickly, her heart in her throat. It didn't take long for the familiar sound of his voice to fill her ear.

"Hey, sorry, I saw I missed your call," he said, his voice soft and warm but laced with a tiredness that made her heart ache. "What's up?"

She hesitated, unsure how to begin. How to explain the weight in her chest, the fear that he was slipping away from her. "Hey," She started and closed her eyes, let out a shaky breath, and let the words spill out before she could stop them.

"I don't know," she said quietly. "I've just been thinking a lot. I don't know... if you're okay. I feel like you've been distant. I don't know if it's the tour or if it's something else, but it's like I'm here, and you're there and I feel like I might be losing you. And I just can't help but wonder if you're losing interest or if maybe there's someone else. I don't know. I just miss you. I'm sorry, I know I probably sound really stupid right now."

She waited, the silence on the other end heavy, but only for a moment. His voice came through again, softer this time, as though he was reaching for her through the distance.

"Y/N," he began, his tone steady but gentle. "Listen to me. You're the last person I'd ever want to make feel like that. I know things have been crazy with the tour, and I'm honestly exhausted, but that doesn't mean I'm not thinking about you. I miss you more than you know."

Her chest tightened as she listened to him, her thoughts racing, but she didn't interrupt.

"I know I've been bad at keeping in touch lately, but that's not because I'm not trying. I'm just running on empty over here." He chuckled softly, the sound light and warm. "But even when I'm tired, even when I'm on stage with the guys, you're still with me. I need you to know that."

She felt a lump rise in her throat as his words wrapped around her like a comfort she hadn't known she needed.

"I'm sorry if I made you feel like I wasn't there. I'll do better. You mean the world to me, Y/N. I'll be home soon, and we can figure this out, okay? I love you."

Her heart softened, the tension in her chest easing slowly as she listened to the sincerity in his voice. It was as if the weight of her doubts had lifted just a little, the edges of the night softened by his reassurance.

"I love you too," she whispered, smiling relieved. "I'm sorry for doubting you."

"No, no," he said quickly, his voice light and teasing now. "You're allowed to worry sometimes. But just remember, I'm not going anywhere."

And just like that, her heart felt full again. He wasn't perfect, neither was she, but they had something real, and that was enough.

"I'll be home soon," he repeated, and she could almost hear the smile in his voice. "We'll make it through this together, okay? I love you."

She lay back against the pillow, no longer heavy with doubt. He was there. He was always there, even when the miles separated them.

"I love you," she whispered, closing her eyes, finally letting herself drift into sleep.

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A.N.: Hey guys, it's been a rough few weeks. I'm slowly running out of ideas and inspiration, so feel free to send me any requests if you like! Please make sure to vote and as always, thanks for reading. Xx