You were stressed, to put it simply. Stressed over the fact that your grades weren't good enough, your GPA not high enough, your chances of paying off next semester of university were getting slimmer, and if you didn't finish this goddamn research paper for your Biology class, you were going to fail and get kicked out. The only person you could turn to during times like these was your boyfriend, Michael, but right now, he was pulling away and acting distant as well. You couldn't put your finger on what was happening, but this were different; he wouldn't touch you as much, he wouldn't be as affectionate, he wouldn't even say 'I love you too' when you told him. It was heartbreaking, and it only piled on to your stress. While everything else was falling apart, he was the one thing you always turned to, and now you couldn't even do that.
"Fuck it," you mumbled under your breath, rubbing your temples as you stood up and shut your laptop before walking to the kitchen.
You took a deep breath and looked at the time, 2:43 a.m., and Michael was no where to be found. No texts, no calls, nothing. You were nervous, as you always were when it was late and Michael wasn't home, but part of you just couldn't handle it anymore.
Your thoughts were interrupted by the door shutting quietly, as if in hopes to not wake you. You shook your head and walked towards the larger silhouette, your arms crossed over your chest.
"Shit, I thought you'd be asleep," Michael mumbled, turning on the living room lamp so he could see you. His face fell when he saw yours and you looked angry. "What is it?"
"What is it?" You laughed humorlessly, shaking your head. "Michael, it's 2:45 in the morning, and you're just now getting home. You didn't text me and say you'd be late, you didn't call, you didn't do anything. And you've been so fucking distant lately," you started, stopping yourself before you let everything spill.
"Well I'm sorry," he shrugged, brushing you off- like he'd been doing everything here lately.
You couldn't keep it in any longer. "What is your problem, Michael Clifford? You know damn well this isn't the first time this has happened, and I know it won't be the last! So please, just tell me why. Why you're coming home so late, why you're always so distant, why you don't even fall asleep next to me anymore," by this time, tears were flowing freely down your cheeks as every bit of pent up stress and emotion came out at him. "Is there someone else? Because if there is, save me the fucking heartbreak and leave now."
Michael stood there, at a complete loss of words. He couldn't believe you thought he was cheating on you, that hurt more than anything. "No, okay? There's no one else, y/n. Wanna know why I've been so distant lately? Because I'm not fucking good enough for you. Here you are, going into your last year at uni, becoming something great. Here I am, a fucking dropout who can't keep his own girlfriend happy, let alone his fans! I've been distant because no matter how hard I try to convince myself otherwise, I know there is someone better for you. Someone that you're going to meet while I'm off on tour; someone who is going to take you away from me," his voice cracked towards the end, his chest heaving a bit.
Your heart broke slightly, but you were a little angrier than before. "Michael Gordon, don't you ever say that again," you scolded, stepping closer to him. "I love you more than anything else in this fucking world, okay? And it hurts me that you're pulling away because you think you aren't good enough. You're more than good enough. You're absolutely perfect, and no one will ever take me away from you. Your fans love you, your band mates love you, and I love you. So stop pulling away from me, because I'm not going anywhere. Just trust me," you soothed, cupping his cheeks with your hands.
"I-," he started, but you cut him off by kissing him softly.
"You don't have to explain yourself," you murmured, stroking his cheekbones gently.
