Michael Clifford Imagines

To the Moon and Back

"How was your date?" Your roommate (Y/RM/N) asked as you slammed the front door of your shared apartment. You groaned as you threw yourself on the couch. "I see." You'd hoped that this one would go better than your last few. Unfortunately for you, it didn't turn out that way. It wasn't that he was a bad guy, or that you didn't like him. You did. He was a gentleman, funny, attractive... He was the perfect guy, just not perfect for you. "Do you even try on these dates anymore? Or do you just give up before you even walk out the door?"

"Of course I try, (Y/RM/N). It's just..."

"He's not Michael."

No one else could live up to Michael. No relationship from there on out could ever amount to what you had with him. You loved him more than you ever thought possible. You'd stuck by his side day and day out though band practice, touring with Hot Chelle Rae, and their first EP. He wasn't too far away. You could manage that. But that door closed when he left to tour with One Direction. Him and the boys were writing and recording their album on another continent, playing shows around the world. The time changes and long hours... You didn't want to put a strain on your relationship. You would rather remember it how it was than to watch it crumble.

"What are you saying? Please tell me you don't want to end this... Please." He pleaded, taking hold of both of your hands. "I love you. You love me. That should be enough."

"I wish it was, Michael." You stretched up our your toes, giving him one last lingering kiss. "I love you...To the moon and back."

To the moon and back. You gently reached up tracing the familiar lettering on your right bicep. That was your signature phrase. Every time one of you said, 'I love you,' it always ended with the other saying, 'to the moon and back.' Each and every time since the first, 'I love you.' Always. Michael had given you that love. A love big enough and strong enough that reaching the moon was only halfway. Sure you were young, but that didn't mean it wasn't real. 

The pair of you sat in the tattoo parlor, clutching Michael's hand while the tattoo artist got ready to begin. You had already began squeezing his hand just at the sight of the needle. It was your first tattoo, and you were clearly afraid of how much it would hurt. Just a few minutes before Michael had gotten his done, the words 'To the Moon..." were now permanently inked on his left bicep. Now it was your turn. He had assured you that it didn't hurt, but that still didn't make you believe any different.

"(Y/N), you don't have to do this if you don't want to." He said, rubbing his thumb over the top of your hand soothingly.

"No, no. I want to." You nodded squeezing his hand a little tighter.

"Are you sure? 'Cause if you hold onto my hand any tighter you might break it." You eased up your grip slightly, letting his hand breathe.

"I love you, Michael, and I want the world to know it."

"I know you do. But if you're scared then you don't have to."

"Michael," you reached up, cupping his cheek with your left hand, "I would face this fear a thousand times if it would show you how much I love you."

"To the moon and back?"

"To the moon and back." You repeated, leaning forward to press your lips against his.

Loving Michael was the most real thing you'd ever felt. Years had passed but nothing else compared. No new boyfriend, or date, or passerby. Everyone faulted compared to him. You knew you'd never find that love again, because you hadn't let go of it the first time. You had those words engraved in your skin so you would never forget them. And you hadn't. You still loved him... To the moon and back.

"I can't let him go." You cried, letting a tear roll down your cheek. "I've tried, (Y/RM/N)."

After a while she spoke up saying the one thing you hadn't thought she would. "Maybe he hasn't let you go either." She had been encouraging you to move one from Michael since you left the airport. Now she suddenly had hope that you and Michael could have a second chance. It didn't add up.

"What?"

"I'm tired of seeing you miserable, (Y/N). Michael is the only person that I've ever seen you happy with. Like you've said, no one else compares. If you feel like that, maybe he still does too."

"He's a big rockstar now. Girls fawn over him day in and day out. He could have anyone he wants."

"What if he wants you?"

"He doesn't want me." You assured her. "It's been too long. He's grown up. He dyed his hair, pierced both his ears and his brow. Now he's got so many tattoos that he probably forgot all about ours." You re-read the '...and back,' inked on your arm.

"You haven't. Maybe he didn't either. You won't know if you don't try." She was right, you couldn't just sit back and wait for him to call when you know he wouldn't. You got out your phone pulling up twitter. "What are you doing?"

"If he replies, he hasn't forgotten."

"(Y/N), its a tweet. He has millions of fans who are probably all tweeting him right now. You name will just get lost in the sea of tweets. That's not going to help."

"Just wait." You told her as you sent your tweet.

@(Y/T/N): @Michael5sos I love you...

"(Y/N), he sees that tweet a thousand times a day. What makes yours any different? Its a simple I love you! He needs to know directly how you feel!" She yelled. Almost on cue your phone buzzed. 

Michael5sos: @(Y/T/N) ...To the moon and back.