5 Seconds Of Summer Imagines

Mikey Imagine

I tossed and turned all night. I was uncomfortable, more emotionally than physically and I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I feel like something's wrong, but I don't know what. Feeling rung out, I tie my hair up and flip my pillow over to change sleeping positions, but I'm interrupted by a loud bang downstairs.

I'm sure I locked the door. I'm 100% I locked the door. My heart is pounding against my rib cage, so hard it feels like it may break through them. I hear something fall to the floor downstairs and choose to go and look. I don't want to, but I don't want to be burgled or murdered either. Grabbing a lamp off of my bed side table, I gently walk out of my room, trying to make very little sound.

As I approach the top of the stairs, I see the kitchen light is on, and I descend quietly to not be heard. I grip the lamp tighter, my breathing becoming heavy and I try to even it out. As I get to the bottom of the stairs, I see a familiar figure standing in the kitchen.

I say standing. He's swaying back and forth, the smell of liquor obvious even from where I'm standing.

"Mikey?! Do you know what time it is? Not only that, but you almost gave me a bloody heart attack!"

He giggles and goes to lean on the counter, missing by inches, and stumbles into a chair. I'm too tired and irritable for this shit.

"Sleep on the sofa. I'll talk to you when you're sober."

"No."

I stop walking to go upstairs and turn around. Judging from the way he was a minute ago, he was clearly shit faced, now he looks completely sober. How?

"I came here for a reason. If I wait until morning, I won't do it."

"Do what?"

"How long have we known each other?"

I stand for minute, wondering what the hell he is getting at, and choose to answer to entertain him for a minute.

"I don't know. Probably, 6 - maybe 7 - years?"

"Actually, its 6 years and 10 months."

"Oh."

How he knows the exact timing is beyond me. I'm exhausted and he's irritating me. If he has something to say, he should just come out and say it.

"What are you getting at, Mikey?"

He pushes himself up from the counter, walking towards me, stopping just far enough away from me to see his glazed and bloodshot eyes.

"We've known each other for 6 years and 10 months."

I nod, gesturing for him to carry on. He's repeating himself and its becoming annoying and boring.

"For 6 years and 2 months, I've had a crush on you."

He lazily smiles at me and I'm taken aback. Why now? Why would he bring this up whilst he's drunk? It's the worst possible timing.

"Mikey-"

"Did you know, psychologists did a test, and apparently, if you have a crush on someone for more than 4 months, it means you love them and that love you feel is inevitable?"

I feel the wind knock out of me. I have nothing to say, no way to respond to him, and he knows that. His lazy, happy smile, drops to a frown when I'm stood there speechless. His whole body slumps, his excitement disappearing as soon as it came, and I feel guilty for not saying anything to him.

"I don't want your couch. I'll go find a bench to sleep on or something."

"What about your place?"

"I lost my keys. Again. I'll be fine."

He moves past me, walking in the direction of the door, and I mentally prepare myself for what is about to happen.

"Mikey."

I hear him stop in the doorway. I don't turn around, finding it easier to speak to thin air.

"Stay."

"I'm not going to stay where I'm not wanted."

This time, I turn to face him and his back is to me.

"I want you."

His whole body freezes, his muscles going rigid, and I let the words flow from me.

"I've always wanted you. Maybe not as long as 6 years and 10 months or 6 years and 2 months, but believe me it's not that far off."

He turns to look at me, his eyes are watery, not from intoxication like before, but he looks like he genuinely may cry. The thing is; id join in.

"I love you, Michael Clifford. You're just a massive fucking idiot and was too blind to see it."

By now I'm sobbing and my tears are like a water fall, he takes a few large steps towards me and engulfs me in a hug, pulling me tight against my body. He doesn't let me go, he whispers how much he loves me, and I repeat them back to him.