5sos preferences..

emotionally

Emotionally

Ashton:

You weren't supposed to die," You sobbed, resting your head against the cold stone. You let a heavy sob shake you, as you pulled back to study the stone. You already knew what it looked like. You had memorized every crook, crevasse, and word on it. You had memorized the way the cursive words flowed, the way the flecks of stone glittered when the sun hit them, and the way the a pair of drumsticks were engraved into the stone itself. You couldn't breathe from the constricting feeling wrapping around your chest. Maybe it was your heart finally crumbling into a thousand tiny piece, because it had already been broken and fractured, or maybe it was the lack of oxygen, because you had used all of your air repeating his name like a mantra or screaming at the top of your lungs. You sat back on your heels, wiping your eyes. It had been months since he had died, a freak accident, but it still felt like yesterday he was torn from you. "You hurt me," You whispered. "You weren't supposed to die! You were supposed to live! See the world with your best friends! You were supposed to marry me and we were going to have k-kids. We were going to grow old together Ash," You said letting fresh tears fall from your eyes. "I was supposed to be with you." You said. "I should have died, not you." You said, now beginning to hyperventilate. "You're supposed to be here." You said pounding the grassy ground. There were flowers put at the base of the stone, fans leaving small things, and a single candle lit by you. "You hurt me, you son of a bitch." You said, letting a whimper escape your lips. "I can't sleep, I can't fucking do anything because everything I do reminds me of you." You said toying with the ring on your finger that he had given you. It was an engagement ring. He had proposed three weeks before the accident, but now you would wear black instead of white. You sobbed, covering your face as your body was engulfed in an indescribable pain, something that stemmed from your heart and spread outward. Something that hadn't subsided since he had died, and now you wondered if it would ever go away. "Ashton," His name was enough to make your heart constrict, the simple word causing you so much grief you were knocked breathless. "Ashton, Ashton, Ashton." You wailed, not caring if anybody was watching. Fans had seen you do this everyday now, even the boys had seen you break down like this, you didn't care anymore - no, you didn't feel anymore. "I need you here. I need you here with me." You whispered. "I need to feel your arms one more time. I couldn't say good bye." You barely whispered. You took a shaky breath, staring at the beating sun, but it did little to warm you up. The only thing that could warm you up was Ashton's embrace, but you would never feel that again. The only thing you could do was wrap yourself up in one of his sweaters you refused to get rid of, and imagine the way his heart had beat at a healthy, steady rate. It beat no more, but you could imagine. It was the only thing you could do to pull you through the day, because quite frankly, you were a crumbling mess.

Calum:

You were curled up on the couch, trying to make yourself as small as you could as you stared at the wall numbly. You had done this for the past two days, so far, being inconsolable as you stared at his things strewn about the apartment. Calum had ended your relationship, something that you didn't see coming to be honest. One moment you thought you were happy, laughing, and madly in love, but now you were curled up on the couch, numb, angry, and most of all devastated, and alone. You heard a knock on the door but you didn't even register the sound, instead, hearing the rattle of keys in the lock. The door opened, and you were suddenly overtaken with sadness, because you knew exactly who it was. "(Y/N)?" You heard him call out through the quiet apartment. You closed your eyes in a flicker of overwhelming pain, because the mere sound of your name on his lips was enough to add another crack to your already shattering heart. He walked around, until his footsteps stopped, probably because he could see you curled up on the couch. "(Y/N), are you alright?" He asked, his voice soft, as if he was speaking to a child. "Do I look alright?" You said, your voice monotone, and unemotional. He sighed, cleaning his throat. "I'm sorry," He said. Suddenly anger coursed through your veins like a fiery wave. "You're sorry? You're fucking sorry?" You said, your voice an eerie calm. You heard Calum exhale heavily before walking around to face you. "I'm so-" He began but you cut him off. "Shut up Calum. You don't know how much you've hurt me. Anything else that comes out of your mouth is going to tear me to shreds. I don't want your pity, or your fake sympathy. Just get out." You said, holding back tears. You saw Calum wince, before nodding his head. "I didn't mean to hurt you (Y/N)." He said. "Because breaking up with me after two happy years doesn't seem like it would hurt me. Just get out." Finally, a single tear managed to squeeze itself out of your eyes, and you saw Calum's face drop. "Get out." You whispered. "I'm just going to grab a few things," He said slowly, his voice hesitant. When you didn't answer he nodded his head, walking away slowly, as if he were waiting for you to call him back. But you couldn't because, he had created a hole in your chest so much bigger than all the happiness he had brought to your life, with a simple "I think we should take a break."

Luke:

"I'm exhausted." Luke said flopping down on the bed, on top of the laundry you were folding. You gaped at him, wondering if he was losing his eye sight. "Luke, get off the laundry!" You said. "Fine, no need to snap." He said, sitting up and walking out of the room. You shook your head, resuming your task as you finished up in a few minutes. You walked out, sitting down on the couch, breathing a sigh of relief. "Did you even do anything today?" Luke said from the kitchen walking towards you. "You're sighing like you're tired, but compared to my day, you can't be tired." He said coming to sit beside you. You looked at him absolutely astounded by his remark. What hadn't you done today? It was your first day off in a while, and you decided to get some work around the house done, things that had been building up. "Excuse me?" You said, offended. "What?" Luke said, staring at you. "You don't think I've done anything? I have done laundry, prepared dinner, cleaned the house from top to bottom, ran some errands, filed a report and I am now just sitting down. Do not tell me that I haven't done anything today." You said, clenching your fists slightly to alleviate some of the anger within your body. "Whoa, sorry." He said, holding up his hands in a defensive manner. "I'm sorry for accusing you. I shouldn't have just overlooked what you've done. The place looks great." He said, smiling. "Thank you," You said, but you didn't really mean it. It hurt you actually, that he had assumed that you hadn't done anything today, nor had he recognized your efforts. When he overlooked the things you did it really hurt, to be honest. This wasn't the first time either that this had happened. There were past times were he overlooked or didn't recognize your efforts in many things. You leaned back against the couch, closing your eyes, and trying to push past these feelings that were eating you raw. Did you bring it up? Did you raise this an issue for fear that it would develop into a fight? "Want to go out tonight, penguin? Get out of the house a bit? Seeing as you spent most of your day in?" He asked. It took you a few moments to realize that he was talking to you, but you smiled nonetheless. "Sure," You said, trying to sound excited. You realized that you had lost your moment to bring it up, and you swallowed past the lump in your throat, before plastering a smile on your face to pretend that you weren't offended by his words, or that the hurt inside you wasn't eating you alive.

Michael:

"Have you seen my flannel?" Michael yelled from your shared room. You sighed standing up. You walked to him, seeing him puttering around your room without a shirt or anything on. "Yeah, it should be hanging up in the closet. Why?" You said. He nodded his head before searching as you walked to the bed to sit down. He buttoned it up after finding it, turning to you. "Where are you going?" You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. "Out with some friends." He said smiling. "Oh?" You questioned. "They asked me to have a guys night, so how could I refuse?" He said laughing. "We haven't seen each other for a while? Like gone to bed together." You said a little timidly. "I know baby, so many people want to see me now that I'm home. We'll spend some time together soon." He said, coming over to kiss you on the cheek. "I won't be out that late, love you." He said grabbing his coat and walking out of the room. "Thats what you said last night." You said under the breath as the door shut. You understood that Michael had so many friends, but at the same time you missed him. You two hadn't gone to bed together, he was always hung over when he woke up, and through the day he usually just wanted to spend it in. You missed him when he was always wanting to go outside, and do something, and those plans usually included you. As selfish as it seemed, you missed the old times. He was hurting you, the distance becoming unbearable as he was always out. You trusted him, but you wondered how many shots of liquor it would take until he kissed another girl, and that hurt you the most.