Regret // s.m

part 9

(A/n: please read the authors note at the end of this chapter. It is very important!thank you! )

We danced all night, laughing and moving our bodies to the melodies that flew away from the speakers and into our ears. And for once in my life, I enjoyed myself.

Shawn and I savored each moment we had of this lively night because we both knew in the back of our heads that we probably wouldn't have another night like this where we heard laughter instead of screams, and felt love instead of fear.

It was about two in the morning when Shawn suggested that we get some rest. There was a secluded bedroom on the second floor right above the club. As we walked up there, boys about Shawn's age kept hollering words like, "Have fun with her.". Shawn would just shake his head in annoyance as he earned peculiar looks from them as a response. I knew that I wasn't the first girl he brought up here.

The club was still packed with people despite the time but once Shawn and I escaped to the room, all the hectic sounds became muffled, relaxing my ringing ears.

Shawn had left me in the room, telling me he had to go get something so I was left to examine my surroundings. The room was neatly cluttered with crumpled papers and the stained wallpaper husked from the cracked cement walls. There was a full sized spring bed in the very corner of the room with only a red quilt resting upon it. I wondered about how Shawn knew about this place and from what I saw, he looked very familiar with everything. He made me feel crazy not only because he kept my mind buzzing with questions but because of the way he made me feel dedicated to something.

A guitar caught my attention from out the corner of my eye. It was suspended to a wall and it looked almost as if it were inviting me to come pluck some of its fragile chords. It was absolutely stunning. Dark wood forged the guitar into accurate mathematical curves to have certainly constructed the most preeminent sound.

I traced my fingers along the strings as a muted melody danced away from the guitar.

My fingers that were once lightly strumming the guitar, grasped it's way to take the beauty off the wall, accepting the invite the guitar had given me.

I played a song my father would sing to me. I remember when my mother, father, and I would sit in a circle on the wooden floor of our cozy house, indulging the beautiful melodies and voice of my father and laughing at silly jokes my dad would pull off. On those type of nights, my dad would throw me in the air and I would spread my arms out fearlessly, knowing that he would catch me. He seemed to have dropped me when he died.

I missed those days. I missed being loved and cared for. I know both of them love me from heaven but sometimes I feel as if I don't notice their love because their presence are non existent.

I missed them and I was all by myself now, no one to tell me what to do and what right choices to make.

My fingers strum the last notes of the song, ceasing my thoughts of my loneliness.

"That was lovely."

I spun around to Shawn as I fumbled to hide the guitar from him.

"Why did you never tell me that you played?" He smirked, taking off his leather jacket and leaving him in a tight white shirt.

I gulped.

"I don't. I only know this one song... but it's n-not really a good one." I mumble, in loss for words.

"What's the song called?"

"Well there's not a name to it because my dad made it up and uh-"