"Stuck In The Friend-Zone Again and Again"

"Drive Forever"

So I drew this thing...^

Quote for the chapter: "I was born with a great need for affection and a terrible need to give it."

We talked and joked and scrolled and sang and ate and did just about everything you could with minimal movement on a tour bus until I finally fell asleep after God knows how many hours of driving.
The soft rocking of the tour bus and the faint sound of the wheels on pavement lulled me to sleep slowly, curled into a ball on top of my blankets.

Luke's P.O.V.

I looked over at Paris after several minutes of her being quiet, out of habit making sure that she was alright, only to find her fast asleep.
I smiled slightly, looking at her completely peaceful face.
Michael looked up at her too, noting her silence.
"Her face is peaceful again," I commented.
"I think she's finally over him, mate," Michael said.
"I don't think she's over him," I replied. "I don't think she'll ever really be over him. I just think she's moved on. And until something happens to remind her of all of what he put her through, she'll stay moved on."
"Well I think you should make your move soon, before some other guy swoops in on her," Ashton said.
Michael nodded. "She's famous, hot, and single. She's probably got half of the teenage and twenty-something population drooling, whether male or female."
"No matter if they're straight or not," Ashton said.
"She's definitely girl-crush material," Michael agreed. "If I was a girl, anyway."
"Well she's not gonna go for just anyone," I reminded them. "She needs to get to know them at least slightly platonically first, to establish trust. I know her. She's not one to be totally single one day and totally taken the next."
"True," Ashton consented.
"But you're past that stage of needing to establish trust!" Michael protested. "You've been there for her through everything!"
"But she doesn't know I even like her, let alone love her," I said.
"Besides," I added. "She probably won't feel the same way. Goddamn friendzone."
"Haven't you seen the way she is around you?" Ashton almost laughed.
I shot him a questioning look.
"She acts like you're her boyfriend."
"No she doesn't," I said immediately. "Trust me. If she acted like I were her boyfriend, she would be curled up next to me right now. She'd also be holding my hand all the time and playing with my hair and kissing me lightly constantly."
Ashton raised his eyebrows.
"I know what she'd be like. She's extremely affectionate, and loving, and touchy-feely as it is. Add that to a relationship and well... you've got what I just described."
"Dude just ask her," Michael sighed. "Then you can reap all of the benefits of a hot affectionate girlfriend."
"I'm waiting for the right time," I reminded him.
"Well the right time needs to hurry up and get here otherwise you're gonna miss your shot," Michael huffed.

****

Finally the bus stopped, and Diesel (as Paris called him) came back to tell us we were at the hotel.
I didn't want to wake Paris up, as per usual, so I had Ashton take one of her suitcases and Calum take one of mine so I could carry her inside bridal style.
There were photographers, whom Michael spoke to politely about keeping the noise down so Paris could sleep.
Thankfully, they listened, and we were free to walk inside without being bombarded with questions.
John (Feldman), who drove behind us in another bus containing our instruments and things, checked us in, allowing us to ride up the lift through the dark and quiet hotel to the top floor.
We had conjoining rooms, and there were 5 single beds, 3 in one room and 2 in the other, both sets pushed together like we liked them to be.
Calum, Ashton, and Michael smirked at me, then walked through the door into the room with three beds, leaving me alone with a sleeping Paris.
Fortunately, Paris had long since changed into one of my sweatshirts and her track pants, which were a brand called Roots and were the nicest looking track pants if ever seen, so I didn't have to worry about waking her up so she could change.
(seriously if you've never seen roots track pants, or roots pants as we call them, they are really nice and totally acceptable socially. Basically like designer track pants in our eyes)
I simply tucked her in to one of the single beds, then took off my pants and shoes before climbing into the other bed.
I took her hand in my own, before whispering to her softly.
"I love you."

She couldn't hear me of course, but I had said it just the same.
And just like the seemingly thousand times before, I fell asleep to the quiet, steady sound of Paris's breathing.

A/N: I went and saw The Visit yesterday w/ the best friend who we call sista and my mum and holy shit is it twisted. But I loved it. Mum and I watched some Criminal Minds to calm us down. It worked. Something is wrong with us.
I really don't wanna go back to school it's already stressing me out on the regular and I've only been back a week.