Waiting. | Luke Hemmings (ON-HOLD)

four

LUKE.

I got a sheet of paper and sat down my bed, while placing my guitar beside me.

It's been a year now, baby. I hope you're doing fine. But to be honest with you, I'm not. I'm not doing fine. Without you. My life's fucking hell since the day you left. I miss you so so much. I just want to hold you in my arms right now. I wish I could talk to you. I wish I could go there. But, I can't, I'm sorry. We'd see each other soon. I can't wait to kiss you again. I love you.
- Luke

I stood up sighing, and kept the paper inside the box.

I heard a soft knock from the door. "Hey, Luke?" Michael asked from outside the door. "Yeah, come in."

"Luke," He sighed. "You're crying again." He pointed out,

Oh, well. Didn't notice that. I thought, wiping my eyes. "Sorry," I mumbled, "That wasn't very manly,"

Michael just smiled at me sympathetically. "You miss her, don't you? Hm?" Michael asked.

"Yeah, so fucking much." I breathed looking at my guitar, holding back more tears.

"Luke, it's okay to cry." He sighed. "No need to hold it all back in." He smiled, Then that's it, I broke down. Wow, I'm sounding so gay right now.

"Luke, tell me. What are you feeling?" He asked. "Shit." I mumbled. "I just, I just miss her so much, and the, the fact that I've fucked around months after she'd been gone is not making it any better, I feel like an asshole. An asshole, for, for like using girls to be a temporary fix. Just for a night, I feel so bad, Michael. Me, getting drunk and passing out in someone's backyard is not, n-not making me feel better. I think, I think I should stop hooking-up with girls for awhile. I just miss her.. I know that she'd want me to be happy and enjoy my life. But, fuck. Mike. I-if there's a right girl.. Then, yeah, let's see how's it go. When I say 'I want a girl', I mean 'I need to stop fucking girls every night and try to have a stable relationship with someone.. If there would be a chance'. Michael, Michael I'm just sick of not having a girl I love in my arms. Not being able to actually feel something. I'm tired of having sex, instead of making love. I know this might sound too fucking cliché, but, I don't really give a shit. That's just how I feel." I managed to choke out between my sobs.

Michael stood up, patting my head and sat down the floor. "What are you doing?" I asked. "Cheering you up, I guess?" He shrugged, poking my left leg hanging lazily the bed, tickling me slightly. "No stop" I groaned, chuckling a bit. "C'mon, that's it. Smile." He laughed, crossing his eyes.

"You know, I'll tell you a secret, but don't tell it to anyone," He laughed, "I think Calum's pretty hot." He smirked, jokingly. "Hey, stop cheating on me" I pouted, kidding of course. (A/N: No, Naomi. He isn't gay.)

"Aw, baby. I'm sorry, wouldn't do it again," Michael said standing up and making kissy-faces.

"Ew, stay away from me. I'm homophobic." I said making a face showing pure disgust. (A/N: not meant to be offensive. Lurve es equal AF, ily all. (:.)

"You scared of yourself?" He laughed. "Ha ha. Very funny, Clifford. But, in case you don't know, I do have a dick, and it gets hard because of girls. Not because of.. You." I rolled my eyes. "Woah, no need to be defensive." Michael smirked, raising both of his hands up in 'surrender'. We bother laughed after that.

"Thanks, Michael." I smiled. "Anytime, Hemmings." He replied, standing up and left my room.

I sighed and got my guitar, I strung a few chords until I found the perfect sound.

I wish that I could wake up with amnesia, and forget about the stupid little things. Like, the way it felt to fall asleep next to you. And, the memories I never can escape; I scribbled down the paper and sighed. "I miss you," Then, I started standing up and heading to the door, ready to take a walk, just to breathe in fresh air.

+

I continued walking until I reached the end of our street. God, why do I love walking so much?

I stopped in tracks when I saw a very familiar looking house. Duh, Luke. You live in this neighborhood. My inner subconscious said. Well, my sassy, witty inner subconscious, rather. "May I help you?" A girl asked, making me jump. Definitely didn't notice her there. Wait. She looks so damn familiar.

A

nd so damn cute. My subconscious said. Subconscious? Not really. Sometimes my subconscious is fucking with me. But, when I thou- no, when my 'subconscious' thought that she was cute, is it really my subconscious thinking she was cute, or was it my own mind that thought she was cute. Wait, is my subconscious my own mind or does it have its own mind? Whatever, I'm not making sense at all, am I?

"Excuse me? May I help you? You've been standing in front of my house for like two minutes." She grumbled.

"Um, do I know you?" I ask.

"Oh, I don't know. It's not like you've been the one who just randomly showed up in front my house and fucking came on me like 'Do I know you?'" She snapped at me. Oh I guess, my subconscious is not alone with those shit tons of sass.

"Wait, really, do I know you?" I asked once again.

"I think I can ask you the same question." She rolled her eyes. Wait, she doesn't know Luke Hemmings? "You don't know me?" I asked confused, "Um.. Should I?" She glared at me. "Just go straight to the damn point, you jerk!" She yelled, "Tell me, are you a rapist, or a serial murderer, or are you a fucking kidnapper? Fuck, I knew it! I should've stayed inside, please, I'm just a fucking twelve year old. Don't kill m-" She interrogated.

"I'm Luke."

Lmao, bored AF. BTW, NAOMI she's @Naomixed so don't be too confused if you read her name awhile ago, peace out lovely biatches. x

-Sof