friends [muke af]

ne me détestez pas

ne me détestez pas

“I think it’s past Mike’s bedtime,” Luke said after the older boy yawned for the fifth time. 

Michael smiled, sipping his caffeinated beverage once more, he thought it would wake him up; he was wrong.

“He never stays up anymore,” Clémence complained, “all he does is watch HGTV and sleep.”

“So basic,” Luke laughed, taking their drinks to the garbage can. He stumbled over his feet as he was walking back, trying to play it off cool.

“I think we should go soon,” Michael said, “wouldn’t want C to get cranky.”

“Dad,” she whined out, extending his name. 

“There it is.” Michael started to stand up, stretching out his back and running a hand through his brown hair.

“Why don’t you guys come back to my place? It’s not that late,” Luke spit out quickly, not wanting them to leave just yet. 

Michael wrapped an arm around his daughter, she put her own hand in his, looking up at him, “please?”

Mike laughed, nodding his head, “I guess, only for a little bit though.”

Before they knew it, their three bodies were pressed tightly into a small, yellow cab. The dark skyline was passing by faster than ever as the bright lights blinded them. Michael missed the city that never slept, he leaned forward, trying to see the city without sitting on Luke’s lap. Clémence had her small, pale nose pressed against the cold glass, condensation building up around her. 

Luke leant backwards, giving Michael space to take in the city, “do you miss it?” He whispered.

“The city? Yeah, I do, a lot.” Mike leaned back in his seat, placing his hands on his lap.

“When I came back here, it just wasn’t the same.” Luke spoke in short sentences, not wanting to reveal the pain and heart ache he felt every time their eyes met.
New York City wasn’t the same without blind Luke and grocery clerk Michael. Luke didn’t have Calum, he didn’t have his college. Luke had only himself and his memory. He tried to revisit the places that hurt the most, hoping to get over the feeling of being lost, but it’s been nine years, and he is still in pain. 

“Sitting here now reminds me of all the adventures the three of us went on.” Michael smiled at nothing. The soft hum of the radio was the only sound filling the car, not even their breaths dared to make a sound in the quiet buzz of the car. 

The cab pulled to the curb, “those months were the best times of my life,” Luke whispered as Clémence opened the cab door. 

Luke paid, Michael argued, and C froze in the cold air. 

Luke R. Hemmings was a messy person, once he got his eyesight back, he turned back into the destroyer he once was. There was boxers and teeshirts lying on the couch, not to mention the weird stains on all furniture. 

His windows were smeared and in a need of cleaning (much like the rest of his house). Paintings were crooked on the dark grey walls, Clémence cringing at the sight. His kitchen table had chipped on the side, the mismatching seats were a mess. 

The stairs up to the loft were in desperate need of a vacuuming, [what looked like] spilled cereal between every crack of every step. Michael was glad he couldn’t see the boy’s actual bedroom. 

The three stay standing in the foyer, “welcome.”

(a/n) ok guys you know i love you all to death, and i never, ever, ever wanted to become one of those whiny authors because that's such a turn off, but it really makes me upset when you guys are upset at my nine year gap i made. 

i promise you that there is a reason for it, i promise you this book is going to be even cuter than the boy with the white eyes. 

i do truly feel saddened when you guys comment things about my choices in this au. even if i don't respond to every single comment, i read them all, and i appreciate them to death. 

i love you all, double update tonight,

x, soph