Dreams On Fire || ✓

Chapter 7

Date: 12th August, 2016.

and sadness nips at the bottom of my stomach, making me feel queasy. Sadness has become all I have ever known and I've found a strange comfort in being sad. Sadness is comforting to me.

"I'm sorry for my illiteracy,
I dropped out of school for this band."
- Calum Hood

UNEDITED

(ignore typos and grammatical errors)

It had been two days since Luke had visited Michael and he was starting to think that after all, Luke might not be real.

He might be just a piece of imagination that his mind had created to cope up with his death.

But when Michael saw the misplaced guitar, he knew.

He knew that he wasn't going crazy, he knew that his best mate was stuck somewhere in between a nightmare and lost dreams.

It was two in the night and he was lazily flopped on the bed, his back in contact with the warm mattress and a sigh escaped his lips.

He believed that at any moment Luke would appear and they would talk and maybe, just maybe, Michael could get some answers.

He rolled on to his stomach and his hooded eyes set a glance on the clock on his nightstand.

3:59 am, the red letters glared back, as if mocking Michael's insomnia.

Michael scowled at the clock and closed his eyes, trying to sleep but sleep wasn't in his luck. As soon as he closed his eyes, he could hear a shuffling noise and his eyes shot open, hoping it was Luke who had showed up in his room.

It was.

Hope ignited Michael's chest, he was happy.

Luke, on the other hand, was dreading to come back. He was beating himself over the fact that he had hurt the person he loved the most and he couldn't forgive himself. He tried convincing himself that it wasn't his fault and he didn't know but no avail.

He looked around the room. It wasn't any different than it had been before.

There were still clothes strewn on the carpet and Luke was sure that there were more pieces of glass on the floor. The air flowed in the room through the open window, making Michael shiver.

Luke watched at Michael curled himself in a tiny ball in the centre of the bed, wrapped up in blankets making a cocoon that almost swallowed him.

Luke smiled and took a seat on the bean bag in the furthest corner of the room, getting away from his Mikey. Luke closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. He couldn't stand the dirt and filth in Michael's room, he was always the one who kept everything clean.

He stretched his legs ahead of him and concentrated. Slowly, with just a command from his mind, he picked up the piece of glass off the floor and dropped it into the dustbin. Several other shards followed after and soon enough, the carpeted floor was free of glass, among Luke smile.

His Michael wouldn't get hurt anymore.

As the pieces of glass flew around the room, landing in the dustbin, Michael laid there in amazement, his forest green eyes lighting up with awe.

Luke could see his eyes fading to a lighter shade of green which only happened when Michael was happy and Luke felt pride surge through his body.

Pride because he had made his best friend happy instead of hurting him.