Help Me

One Day Later

Mikey

Mikey yawned, waking from the first dreamless sleep he'd had in months.

A sharp beam of light slit its way through Rye's blinds, lighting up Rye's face with an angelic touch.
Mikey sighed, trailing his fingers delicately over his face, cautious to not wake him from his slumber.
Rye muttered something unintelligible, making Mikey smile fondly at him. He looked like an angel whilst asleep, he looked adorable, something that he knew Rye would never accept if he told him so.

Quietly, Mikey slipped out from under the covers, turning back to tuck Rye in.
His boyfriend mumbled something, and promptly hid his face in the covers when he curled up beneath them.
Mikey kissed Rye's head, before leaving the room, finding out where everyone else was.

It was far too light to be early in the morning, and they had stayed up until five in the morning...

With some investigating, he deemed Brooklyn, Jack and Andy to be at the gym. Firstly, the flat was empty (besides him and Rye), and plus their gym bags were missing, resulting in his conclusion.
He sighed, sliding his hands along the doorframes, taking everything in. Thinking.

Thinking about everything. How far they'd come since they had all met in Blair's front room. The late nights. The endless laughter. The tears. The all-nighters they'd pulled at the studio. Filming covers from the early morning to late at night.
They'd had their ups and downs, but it had got them to the position they were in currently, one that was strong and promising for their future careers.

Mikey laughed quietly to himself, still in wonderment of how they had their own flat now.
Taking a deep breath, he decided that he needed a shower. Not because he smelled at all, but because he just wanted the calmness that only a shower could provide. The feeling of water rushing over him.

He didn't use Rye's shower, still in fear of waking him up, so he opted to use the other one.
It was leisurely, and seemingly timeless, as he let the warm water wash over him, cleansing his body, washing away all the negativity inside him. He felt something lift from his shoulders, and he stood that little bit straighter, washing the soap and suds from his hair, from his body, all the while breathing deep, sometimes holding his breath.
It was calming, relaxing, and it felt as though classical music was playing faintly in the background, the notes and the strings sinking deep into his bones. But there was no music though, it was all in his head, his imagination running wild.

He stepped out from beneath the water, knowing that now he was just wasting water. He dried himself off and changed into a clean pair of shorts.

His shirt half way on, he hesitated.

He looked down, taking in the scars on his body, seeing how they had become a part of him now, a feature, something of a central detail to his skin. Marred.
But he didn't care.

He threw the shirt to the floor with a smile, squaring his shoulders in the mirror.
If the boys came back, he knew they wouldn't care, or Rye for that matter. They'd be proud, he thought.

Mikey smiled to himself, cleaning up the little mess he'd made, and heading into the kitchen. Rye would still be fast asleep, he knew, so there was no point going back into his room.

At that moment Mikey's stomach rumbled, reminding him of his hunger.

To be fair, he hadn't eaten a great deal over the last few days, seeing as he was nervous about feeling sick and such, but he had no such misgivings today at all. He walked confidently into the kitchen, busying himself with the kettle, and making some breakfast.

He was so engrossed in the task that he didn't hear Rye wake up until he was sliding his arms around Mikey from behind. He jumped, but relaxed into the touch when he realised who it was. Rye's chin lay atop his shoulder, watching him make breakfast over his shoulder.