5 Seconds of Summer One-Shots

From Pieces of Broken Memories... - Muke

I like this one, so sorry if it's actually shit 😂
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Luke sighs, rolling over and staring off into the empty space of his bed. He lays his head down on his arm and blinks slowly, imagining Michael there with him, curled up in the blankets like he always used to. Luke thinks about his boyfriend, who is currently studying abroad for three months in London. It's only been one month and Luke, stuck in Australia, can't stop thinking about his love.

The blond remembers the first time they slept in the same bed, the first time he even had the guts to speak to Michael, and the last time they talked.

The last time they talked is a memory Luke replays in his head over and over again. They had gotten into a fight over Michael's choice of leaving, and Luke's choice of not going with. In reality, Luke had really wanted to go, to leave Australia, but he had to stay home and take care of his brother. His brother has severe autism, and his oldest brother is always working his butt off to help their mum pay for bills. It's a working system with their dad gone; they make a living out of nothing.

So, Luke stayed. He stayed and Michael left, but, on the day of his departure and their fight, his face softened and he slowly walked towards Luke. He cautiously reached out to touch the young boy, but he flinched away. They both had tears in their eyes when Michael reached for the other boy's hand, bringing it up to his lips and kissing it softly. He rubbed his thumb over it, letting go less than a moment later, and walked out the door.

He wouldn't have, but because of this small gesture, Luke still had hope. Hope that Michael still loved him, that after the three months, they would be back together, promises kept, hearts mended, and crimes forgotten.

However, Luke knew it was absurd, that hope was useless anymore.

But he also knew that he was slightly overreacting. He just didn't know whether Michael even wanted to see Luke ever again.

Too many emotions, Luke thinks. Too many.

Tears stain Luke's pillow over the next hour, violent sobs wracking the small boy's body. He pulls at his hair, screams, his pillow muffling the sounds of struggle, wondering how the fuck he let his only love go.

Finally, with a small sniffle and a squeezing of his pillow to his chest, Luke falls asleep with a deep frown on his face.

However, it's a restless sleep. Fragments of memories flash through Luke's head as he sleeps, all consisting of Michael, Michael, Michael.

***

Gasping for air, Luke jerks awake and immediately tears start involuntarily running down his face again. He grasps the bed sheets underneath him, trying to ground himself down, trying not to have a heart attack.

His breaths deepen with time, his tears growing less frequent. Soon, he's breathing normally again, with dry eyes and a pounding headache.

The boy lays there for a moment in his pool of blankets and loneliness, grimacing, debating on whether or not ibuprofen is worth the walk to the bathroom or not.

Deciding he can't stand it anymore, he stands up and stretches slightly before walking sleepily to the bathroom.

Luke keeps his hands out in front of him as he makes his way down the hall, his vision still blurry and his eyes puffed up and red. Before long, he reaches the door, grabs ibuprofen from the cupboard, and stands in front of the mirror.

He downs two pills in one go, turning the faucet on and uses his hands as a faux cup to drink out of. He splashes some water on his face, rubbing them over in an attempt to get rid of the redness. Luke looks up to the mirror, to the terrible condition he's in: messy bed hair, puffed eyes, red cheeks, pale everything else.