Beside You

My alarm clock lit up my dark room, beeping loudly at me from its spot on my bedside table. I groaned, slamming my hand onto it a few times until I hit the right button. I most definitely did not want to get up, and I really didn't want to move far enough to actually turn the alarm off. I buried my face in my pillow, sighing deeply before I climbed like an old woman out of bed. I shuffled out of my room, flipping on light switches as I went, to go down stairs and make myself some toast.

I didn't dare glance at myself in the mirror as I went, fearing what my hair looked like. 

It had been a rather hard night, being unable to sleep due to my bed partner being gone. Not that I couldn't fall asleep without him, but seven months is a long time to be apart. Even still, I'm not used to the other side of my bed being cold and empty. 

I grabbed my phone from its place in my basket, turning it on. I set it back down and popped some bread in the toaster, propping my hip against the counter while I waited. My phone buzzed once, signalling that it was on, and then again. And again. I moved back over to it, picking it up to see that I'd missed five calls, all five from one of the boys. I scrolled through, randomly choosing Luke to call back. 

As it rang, I set the phone between my shoulder and my ear and plucked up my toast, setting it on a paper towel. I pulled some Nutella from the cupboard and started smearing it onto the bread, mouth watering just a bit. 

"Hello?" Luke answered.

I munched on my toast, going back upstairs to change. 

"Hey Luke, what's up?" 

I heard him mutter a bit before he said, 

"One second." 

After a lot of shuffling and muffled yelling, he came back. 

"I need to talk to you."

Though he couldn't see it, I was rolling my eyes. Obviously he needed to talk to me.

I set my phone down on my dresser and put it on speaker, rummaging through my drawers for something decent to wear. I've been too lazy to do any laundry, so it was unlikely that whatever I found would be clean, but oh well.

"Yeah I figured. What's up?" 

I pulled out a red checked flannel shirt, a black undershirt, and a bra from one drawer and threw it on my bed, deciding those were decent enough to get by. All I had to do now was search the floor for a pair of clean black jeans, and I'd be set. 

"Seriously, Kirsty. It's bad." 

I went over to my phone and turned speaker off, sitting down on my bed and staring at the wall. Whenever they said something was serious, they weren't joking; hardly anything was ever serious. 

"What is it?" 

He sighed. 

"It's Ashton. He's...not right." 

I picked at the seam of my bed spread, shifting my gaze to the picture of my boyfriend and I sitting on a park bench laughing together on my desk. The days when we were together and smiling were the happiest.

"What's wrong with him?" 

"He'd kill me if I told you this, but he's missing you badly." 

I closed my eyes, clenching my hand on my phone. I was missing him just as badly, perhaps worse. Seven months, as I'd said, is a long time to be apart. 

"He's become really agitated, not taking pictures with fans, not joking around with us, not even really talking to us. He's kind of mean, and he won't eat. He sings sad songs in his room, and he stares at the picture of you on his phone for hours. He lies on the couch and won't move, even when we sit on him, and we can't take it anymore."