5SOS Preferences

#76 Missing

#76 Missing

Luke:

There were a lot of things Luke didn't understand. I mean, eighteen years of life didn't exactly explain everything he experienced in life, let alone the feelings that were coursing through his heart and working their way through his bloodstream, weaving in and out.

Luke had never been good with longing and missing and heartache and he certainly didn't become any better when it came to you.

It confused him how you could be right next to him, sitting in the rather uncomfortable chair in front of the airport window, and feel like you were seven thousand miles away with the Himalayas separating you. Even when he gripped your hand tightly, trying to memorize all the imprints and indentions and wrinkles before he couldn't anymore--before he truly was seven thousand miles away and much more than the himalayas was separating your hearts.

Calum:

It haunted him.

It haunted calum every single day and night when he found himself tossing and turning in his bed, his hands searching for your own and his body desperately seeking your warmth; the warmth he would never find.

He was never the one to feel like this-like he had completely lost the upper hand, that he needed you more than you needed him. But there he was; his body tangled in the sheets that he wished could bring you closer with his heart crumbling in on itself and thoughts that were comprised only of youyouyou.

Missing you was something he had never expected, at least not to this extent. sure, he had thought that he would miss you on occasion, but more so only the physical aspects of your relationship, but what he felt (what he longed for) was so much more than that.

All calum wanted in these heartbreakingly tragic and alone moments was you.

He wanted to smell your perfume lingering around him. He wanted your sarcastic remarks and witty responses. He wanted to share your midnight snacks and kiss the ice cream off your upper lip because you always seemed to get it everywhere.

Basically, calum wanted you and preferably sooner rather than later.

Ashton:

Everything reminded Ashton of you from the food he ordered at restaurants and a song that would come on the radio to a phrase the boys would say (one they inevitably picked up from you) and some random girl's hairstyle that looked too much like your own. Everything came back to you.

Ashton wasn't sure when it happened or even how it happened but what he did know was that he seemingly woke up one day with his only thought being you and there was seemingly nothing he could do to stop it.

He also wasn't that sure if he truly wanted to stop it and that was really how he ended up half his suitcase filled with things that reminded him of you.

Small keychains and stuffed animals, funny cards, small notes and confessions of longing and love he had written in the wee hours of the morning.

The hours where his thoughts wouldn't quiet and his heart wouldn't stop beating in fated unison with your own. But ashton really wouldn't take it any other way, he realized, because he would much rather feel too much for you than nothing at all.

Michael:

Michael sat parallel to you on the bed, his eyes trained on the hardwood floor of his bedroom and his heart quieting in his chest with the silence. He tried to keep his eyes off of your own, knowing that if he looked anywhere in your direction he would reveal everything and in his mind that couldn't happen.

Michael Clifford was very aware of what he was feeling, of what was pulsing through his body and becoming a part of his very soul (at least for the next seven months) but he thought that just avoiding it would make it easier.

If he just didn't talk about it or acted like it wasn't there, maybe it wouldn't be as bad? (Really, michael was just telling himself this over and over again--he would believe it eventually).

In that silent moment where the only sound you could hear was the collective human noise-the sound of your hearts beating and lungs taking in air and thoughts tumbling around- what both of you wanted to say to each other couldn't be clearer.

Michael gulped and his hand inched closer to you subconsciously, as did yours and it was that simple touch. Your pinkies barely touching, that spoke myriads of volumes, and maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all.

-.-.-.-.-.-

quite a deep short chapter :/

vote baesss