"You don't know how relieved I am to hear your voice," you whisper down the phone. You hear him make a happy little sigh.
"I love you" he says, quietly as if he didn't want the band members to hear incase they took the piss out of him.
"I love you too," you sigh.
"We had a great gig, everyone sung along like they actually know our stuff," he says, you can hear his sweet smile down the phone.
"That's amazing, Al" you say. You let him ramble on for a while, letting his voice intoxicate you.
"I need to go, baby," he whispers finally.
"No, please don't," you suddenly whine. You had forgotten how comforting and warm his voice was.
"Don't make it any harder, please?" he whimpers down the phone.
"For who, you or me?!" you say irritably.
"I love you," he says, making your sudden rage wash away at his soft words.
"You better," you say with a smile, hanging up the phone. You miss him, so fucking much.
After you drink your hot chocolate you wander home (to your own flat, for once) and play The Hives loudly. You strip to your underwear and collapse onto the couch, picking up your laptop. You scroll social medias and notice a picture of Alex on stage, singing. The caption underneath reads:
"Alex Turner at LA last night, amazing show boys!"
Your heart melts at his happy little face, his mouth partly open. He looks so passionate about what he's doing. You smile, proud of your boyfriend. You were glad he was happy, however you were in pools of tears most of the time. You almost wish he was missing you too much to enjoy anything. You shake your head, furious at yourself for thinking such a thing. You slam shut your laptop and go to get a drink, your mind confused and sad.
