Dreams On Fire || ✓

Chapter 5

Date: 31st July, 2016.

Don't tell people that you are not okay, because they don't know how to react. You'll end up comforting them even if it's you who needs comforting. And that hurts.

"Never ever give up the fight."
- Ashton Irwin

UNEDITED

Luke sighs and kicks his legs up in the air, not having anything better to do. Sometimes, being a ghost sucked. When he was alive, the tall awkward boy had a lot of friends and he constantly needed someone to talk to, even if that person was his mum.

It had been tough for Luke, to be quiet so he talks to himself, out loud. Not that it matters anyways, nobody can hear him.

Shutting his eyes for a minor, he takes in the calmness and then he is up on his feet, ready to go meet, more like see his friends.

Hopefully, Mikey wouldn't be drunk this time, the twenty-two year old thinks to himself.

He hums a tune under his breath on the way to the red-haired boy's house and he has to constantly remind himself not to touch anyone.

He still didn't know what would happen if he touched someone or passed through them. Maybe something, maybe nothing. The possibilities were endless and he was scared to try anything.

In no time, he found himself standing outside the Clifford household and sucking in a huge amount of air which wasn't even needed, he went inside.

Ashton, the guy who's dimple had no ends, was sleeping peacefully on the couch with this arm coving his eyes, shielding it from the light.

He dragged his feet to the guest bedroom (where they usually used to stay) and Calum was sprawled on the bed, representing a human starfish with his arms and legs spread wide. Luke chucked at bit, admiring his best mate and closed the curtains, painting the room black and covered him with a blanket.

He stripped the second bed off it's blanket and carried it to the living room, where Ash was. Luke carefully covered him and Ash snuggled into the blanket, a small smile covering his face.

With a snap of his fingers, the curtains fell and decorated the window while the television that was on, switched off.

He ruffled Ash's air causing goosebumps to cover on the latter's skin and he now moved forward to check on Mikey.

His room was locked, as usual but surprisingly, it didn't reek of alcohol anymore. Yeah, the scent still lingered in the air, but not as strong.

Luke saw the window was open and he smiled slightly.

Michael lay on his stomach, his bare back on display with the kitten duvet covering his lower half body. A gust of air passed by and Michael shivered, unconsciously pulling the duvet tighter but Luke just stood there, unaffected.

Luke didn't know why but he felt drawn to Michael.

It was like he was physically pulling towards him and maybe it had something to do with the fact that he was closest to Michael when he was alive and he trusted him the most out of everyone else.

Luke felt that Michael could see him.

Michael thought that Luke was just his imagination.

With a sigh, Luke plopped down on the beanbag with lilac stains and Luke smiled, imagining Michael with the freshly dyed lilac hair, flopping down on this beanbag, causing several stains to be printed upon it. Not that he gave a damn, though.

Luke's hands itched for the guitar that sat just a few feet away from him, he hadn't played in so long.

Giving in to his incentive, he grabbed the guitar off the stand and a content sigh left his mouth as soon his the polished wood came in contact with this hand.

He practiced a few chords before he finally played one of their songs on the acoustic guitar. He closed his eyes from the pure euphoria he felt when his fingers stroked the strings and how freely they moved as if he was born to do this, which he was.

He lost himself in the music and it made him blithe, even when he was dead. He abruptly stopped playing when Michael's groggy voice washed over Luke and he sat there, his eyes wide.

"I a-am sor-rry. I wa-as just pla-aying. So-orry." Luke stuttered out an awkward apology, relieved he was dead now because he couldn't blush.

Michael chuckled, used to Luke being this awkward and he mumbled a 'don't be.'

They kept staring at each other but for different reasons.

Luke wanted to make sure that Michael was okay but he wasn't so sure because his eyes were still a little glazed over and his eyes squinted, the signs showing that he was still a little hungover.

Michael gawked at Luke as he wanted to confirm that Luke just wasn't his imagination. His head was throbbing, he squinted his eyes because the light was too much for him and his mouth was permanently set in a grimace. He decided that it was best if he took a shower first and cleared his foggy mind which was still in a haze because of the large amount of alcohol he had consumed the previous night.

He knew this wasn't the right method to cope up with the death of his best friend whom he loves with all his heart but there was only so much he could do to forget that his partner in crime was in fact, defunct.

He would rather drink than remember how did Luke's voice sound like or what did he do when he was nervous or how did he react when he was angry. He would rather suffer from a raging hangover than remember their inside jokes and cuddles.

Michael would rather forget than remember.

By the time Michael was done showering and left his ensuite to get dressed in the bedroom, Luke was long gone.

Michael furrowed his eyebrows and quick put his clothes on. He thought to himself that he was starkly imagining Luke being there.

But when he saw the indents on the beanbag and the misplaced guitar he thought to himself that maybe, just maybe, Luke was really there and not just a piece of his imagination.

• • • • •

Thank you for getting DOF on #456 in fanfiction, it means a lot :)

All the love,
Pia xx