Belief

2.3

Technically this isn't a real update it is basically the last two chapters in Luke's POV, but you guys have been so amazing lately that I wanted to give you something extra! But I guess this counts as a semi update(;

Luke's POV

My fingers brushed over the strings to my guitar, playing around with the chords until I found a soft melody that fit my mood.

"I thought about our last kiss, how it felt, the way you tasted," I sung softly to myself before scribbling the words down into my open notebook.

Music was the only way I could figure out what I was feeling. It started off as a verse or two that crept into my mind late that night after everything had happened, but then more bits and pieces began to formulate. Now here I was huddled up in my bed, guitar in my lap, trying to fill in the holes of these lyrics. These lyrics that I somehow managed to write.

It was everything I was feeling, everything I couldn't say aloud.

There was a soft knock on my door. Looking up, Michael was standing self-consciously in the doorway, looking at me with nervousness. Things were a bit awkward between us ever since he apologized. I hadn't brought it up, but he knows that I heard. I can just tell. Sometimes it just seems easier to ignore problems. If you ignore something long enough, doesn't it just go away?

But he was trying, and I could see that. I just wasn't sure if I was ready to try yet.

"Are you sure you don't want to come?" Michael looked at me with hopeful eyes. I just shook my head before returning back to my guitar. He shrugged, about to turn around to leave, but stopping.

"You know, that song is really good. You should show it to the other boys," he said softly before walking away.

My face flushed, had he really heard me playing? I was singing soft enough that I thought no one could hear me. This song was so...personal. I thought if I showed the boys they would think I was some softie wimp who was too consumed in his feelings that he had to go write a stupid song about it.

I watched as Michael pulled out of the driveway, off to whatever party they were going to this weekend. There was no use in me partying. I wouldn't talk to anyone, and I wouldn't have fun. Nothing was fun anymore.

I stare at the words I've written, hoping the holes would casually fill themselves.

"When he says those words that hurt you, do you read the ones I wrote you?" I mutter softly. I was the one who said the words that hurt her, yet here I am writing her a song. No, writing me a song. My eyes widen, hey that actually works. I fill that in, cramming the words between the faded lines. I had let this project absorb me for the past few days. It makes me face the pain, but it helps contain it. It's like with each verse I am passing a part of my hurt into words, and it just stays there, not coming back to me.

My phone buzzed, glancing at the screen I saw it was from Calum.

Ashton is lecturing Maddie on how to get a rebound. It's now or never.

I stared at the screen, my heart stopping for a beat. Shit. Why was she at the party? What if tonight is the night she gets over me? Would that be a bad thing? Shouldn't I be happy?

The thought of another guy touching her, no, looking at her, made me cringe. Isn't this what I wanted, for her to move on so there would be no more complications?

No, this isn't what I wanted.

I get out of bed, stumbling over the piles of clothes on the floor. I ran into Michael's room, stealing a pair of boxers. I slipped them on, with a pair of my black skinny jeans. I dug through the pile of clothes on the floor until I found a semi-clean t-shirt, sliding it on quickly. I nearly fell over trying to slide on my shoes, fucking vans. I didn't even look in the mirror, my mind too preoccupied on getting to the party. I didn't even have a plan yet, all I knew was that I needed her back.