5sos Imagines

Michael

It wasn't your intention to find the shirt lying on your closet. You just decided to clean it out because it had become a mess of clothes and shoes. You held the piece of clothing towards your chest, his familiar scent giving you chills. The beat up Metallica tank top was your favorite shirt of his. You could practically feel Michael's fingertips on your skin like he was there putting it on you like before.

You and Michael used to live with each other. Sleep with each other, cuddle with each other, cook with each other, kiss each other, hug each other, love each other. Key word used to. Michael was your saving grace to say the least. He was that one thing that made you pull through the day. He made you smile when all you wanted to do was cry. He made your day 1,000 times better just by smiling. He was your sunshine on a rainy day. Michael Gordon Clifford had totally taken over your life and you were completely fine with that.

You didn't care about the way he would yell when he got excited or passionate about something. Or when he wouldn't want to go outside because he needed to get to the next level on his video game. You didn't mind how he'd act so immature when it came to serious things, or how he never really gave two shits about anything that was linked to adulthood. You were just so madly in love with Michael Gordon Clifford. Anything and everything that boy did amazed you. 

He would always wake you up by placing kisses on your nose and whispering "Wakey, wakey my sweet baby." You'd then smile in your half awake state and he'd give you a quick kiss on the lips. He was never a fan of morning breath. He'd always give you a quick kiss then demand you to go brush your teeth. After you would brush your teeth, you would go downstairs where a nice breakfast was waiting for you.

A nice big bowl of your favorite cereal. Michael was never the one to cook. You never knew if he didn't know how to cook or he just didn't want to. You never cared though. You loved not having to go grocery shopping because all you two ate was take out. You didn't care that you would get fat, Michael didn't care so you didn't. 

You took off your shirt and slipped on his loving the way it felt like silk against your skin. You wiped away your tears and decided to go visit Michael. You dropped everything you were doing, as you always did when it came to Michael, and left your house. You got in your car and popped in the CD Michael made you. It was a bunch of songs that he said reminded him of you. He sang a couple and left little messages at the end of each one explaining why it made him think of you. You smiled at the presence of his voice. It will forever be your favorite thing about him. He loved to talk about anything and everything and you loved it. He would read you books and you would rarely ever pay attention to what the book is about because you were always busy focusing on the way his voice would change when he got excited about something or when he was sad about something. His voice was mesmerizing to you.

When you reached your destination, you got out of your car and smiled at an old lady who smiled back at you. You made your way to where the love of your life is. You smiled when you saw him and sat in front of him. 

"Hey Mikey." You whispered. No response. "Its been a while hasn't it?" You frowned and wiped away the tears that were silently falling from your eyes. "I found your shirt. Its the Metallica one if you were wondering." You said playing with the edge of the shirt. Still no response. You touched the cold stone that is Michael Clifford now. "I miss you so much Mikey." You cried out. You traced the words engraved on his tombstone.

Michael Gordon Clifford

11/20/95 - 08/25/15

Loving son, husband and father.

You let out a sob when your finger went over 'father'. You placed your left hand, the one with the ring that you refuse to take off, on your stomach. You're about seven months pregnant with Michael's child. He was ecstatic when you told him. You were so scared to tell him because you're just so young and the band was just getting started but he didn't care. He cried and picked you up and demanded that he would spoil our child rotten. He would always talk to your stomach and rub it. He was so happy when you started to show and went to every doctor's appointment. People thought that we were crazy for having a child so young but we got married at 17 so the idea was normal to us by then. 

"Its a girl." You smiled down at your stomach. Michael had always wanted a girl. He wanted a girl to spoil and call Princess.

"Just think of it babe. I could be like those dads in those sappy movies who say, 'My two favorite girls' or 'My Princess and Queen'. I mean I would still love her if she was a boy but it'd be pretty fucking great if she is a girl." He said to me one day. 

"I'm going to name her Ruby, just like you wanted. And all of her stuff is going to be ruby red like you wanted. And I'll dress her up as Dorthy from "The Wizard of Oz" so she can wear the ruby red shoes. It'll be great. We'll visit you all the time. Whenever she does something new, you'll be the first person I tell. And I'll show her pictures of you so her first word will be 'Dada' like you claimed it would be. She'll love you as if you're here. She'll grow up to idolize you Michael Clifford. She's going to love you as much as I do." I said, crying some more. 

You sat there and talked to Michael for three more hours. The sun went down forcing you to go home.

"I'll be back tomorrow Mikey. I love you." You said. You kissed your hand and placed it against his grave. "To the moon."

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im crying i got carried away wtf did i just do bYE