Summary: You and Luke are former high school sweethearts, but haven’t talked in years. You suddenly run into each other at a bar and might not be completely done with each other.
A/N: Well, no one (literally no one, it got six likes i think) read my last one shot even though the one before that got over 300 so yeah, let’s see how this goes haha. Please please please leave feedback if you like it (and also if you don’t just don’t be too mean im fragile haha) As for warnings, there’s meantions and brief descriptions of sex, and alcohol is also in the picture. Also, if anyone would like a second part, I’d totally be up for that x
T/W: drinking, slight nsfw
Masterlist
I don’t own the picture, it’s from Luke’s instagram
He has changed so much, and he’s not at all the boy you knew all those years ago. But his eyes are the same that once looked at you with admiration and love, and their shade is the same icy blue as the ones who made your teenage heart flutter. His lips are the same as the ones who calmed you down on dark nights, and his hands still the ones that held yours when you walked through the halls of your local high school.
But the confidence radiating from his body is new, as well as the flirting look in his eyes is one you haven’t seen before. It’s a strange coincidence he is frequenting the same bar as you tonight, and even though you’re both different persons than the children who believed their love could last forever, it brings back all those memories you spent so much time on forgetting.
If you had known he was back in town, you would have stayed indoors watching Netflix instead of visiting the bar you know his friends like, but how could you? It’s not easy when he’s traveling the world; in Asia the first day and then home the next.
It may seem weird that even now, years after your breakup, you still fear meeting him, but he was your first love, and you’ve learned that first loves always will have a special place in people’s heart, including yours.
He’s dancing with a girl you don’t know, and she’s just another thing that tells you how different he is. The Luke you knew wouldn’t even have offered her and her short dress a second glance, too caught up in a funny story his friends told and besides never seeing the point in one night stands, but now his hands are around her waist and his lips on her neck.
She turns around and places her hands in his thick curls. You want to puke, perhaps because it isn’t until now you realize that the Luke who’ll always be a part of you is gone from the surface and only lives in your memory. The tiniest bit of hope that has been hidden inside you for the past years shatters. The Luke who promised you forever under a sky full of stars, the Luke who ate McDonald’s with you on prom night in your fancy clothes and the Luke who wrote songs about you and showed them with trembling hands on his guitar doesn’t exist anymore and never will again.
You swallow down the rest of your drink and get up from the lousy bar chair. You’re not in the mood for neither partying nor drinking anymore, no, you just want to go home and sleep and maybe throw out some old pictures of the boy who had promised to come back to you but never did.
However, today isn’t your lucky day. When you stand up, you manage to take down the glass with you, and just as it hits the floor, the music stops and everyone turns towards you, including him. You see it in his eyes: the recognition, how he at first wonders why you look so familiar and then how it suddenly hits him who you are.
It’s only about three seconds before another song is played and everybody continues what they were doing before your little accident, but not him. You watch him excuse himself from the girl who’s clearly very disappointed about missing out on a night with the Rockstar, but he doesn’t seem to care, and while he makes his way to you, his eyes are fixated on yours like you’re some song he knew and loved once but now struggle to remember the words of.
“Y/N.”
“Luke.”
You both greet each other with emotionless voices, and it scares you how comfortable he looks while you’re busy scanning the room for an exit. But even now, the way he says your name sends chill through your body, and you wonder how you have been able to go on so long without hearing him say it.
It’s weird: he’s still able to give you the sparks, to fill your stomach with butterflies, but at the same time you never want to see him again. Never want to hear his voice again, never want to feel the way that only he can make you.
“It’s been a long time, huh? What, a year, two years?”
It hurts that he doesn’t remember, but you remind yourself that it’s different for him. He doesn’t have to buy groceries at the same place you bought hot wings together when you were hangover, chat with your mom every time he sees her on the street (which is surprisingly often considering how big of a city Sydney is), hear her talk about how good you’re doing or walk past your house every time he’s on his way to work.
“Almost three,” you correct, fighting to keep the careless expression on your face.
You just hope he can’t read you anymore. You are, after all, not the open book you used to be.
“Really? Wow, time just flies when you’re living on the road,” he answers, a small smile on his lips, clearly thinking back on some tour memories. “Are you in college now? Almost done or what?”
You’re not really in the mood for small talk, and you just want to run away and never ever think about the boy who broke your heart again, but unfortunately, it feels like your feet are glued to the ground which means you have no choice but to stay.
“Yeah, I’ll be a fully educated teacher in two years. Took a year off to work.”
You can’t count how many times you’ve said those words to strangers or acquaintances, but it feels weird that Luke’s one of them now when he used to be the one who knew you better than anyone else.
Sometimes, you’d wonder if he actually knew you better than you knew yourself. It certainly seemed that way when he sent some of your writing to a competition where the first prize was a course with a professional writer. You only found out what he had done when you received an email that said you had won. Needless to say, you were over the moon for having someone so sweet and considerate in your life.
“Teaching? I thought you wanted to be a writer?” He remembers. Remembers the dreams you had when you were younger and believed everything was possible, when you still believed that dreams come true.
News flash, they don’t.
"Well, we can't all live our teenage dreams as grown-ups," you say before thinking, sounding so bitter that you don't even like yourself. Luke has worked hard for everything he's achieved, and he has definitely deserved it.
However, there's still a small part of you that finds it unfair that he's doing everything he's ever wanted while swimming in money and luxury while you're only just able to pay rent because you did nothing but work for a whole year.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I'm just tired, school's really been taking a toll on me the last couple of months.”
"I understand," he affirms, raising his hand to show that you’re forgiven. "I was rooting for you, though."
You flash a smile at him, and then the two of you stand in an awkward silence you’ve never experienced with him before. You used to talk the whole night, and even when the silence took over, it felt nice and calm and comforting.
He scratches his neck, looking down at his feet. Then he takes a deep breath that visibly expands his chest and fixes his blue orbs on yours.
“Do you wanna dance?”
You open your mouth to decline his offer, but then you close it again and just nod. You can’t explain why, but you can’t get yourself to say no. Not when you know this might be the last time you see him.
He grabs your hand and pulls you through the crowd, bodies pressing against you from every side but the feeling of Luke’s hand in yours making you feel safe.
He stops when he’s found a spot with a little amount of space for the two of you, and you seriously regret your decision when you stand there facing each other and not knowing what to do.
But then he grabs your other hand and swirls you around while pulling you closer, so your back is pressed against his chest. He places your own hands on your hips, his still covering them.
You immediatly lose yourself in the music and the way his body perfectly melds into yours, and you grow braver for every minute. You press your ass against his crotch and let your fingertips wander up to his neck, pulling at the short curls. He groans and grips your hips even tighter, knuckles turning white. Then you turn around and slowly lean in, barely letting your lips meet before pulling away again.
“Such a tease,” he mutters, hands slipping down to squeeze your ass. You lean in once more and this time, there’s no holding back.
He parts your lips with his tongue and then explores your mouth, grazing your teeth and biting your lip.
When a stranger bumps into you, breaking the kiss, he whispers in your ear, “Wanna do this somewhere else, babe?”
You simply nod, feeling your veins boiling with desire.
This time, he leads you to the bathroom for disabled and pushes you up against the door while locking it with the hand that isn’t caressing your hardening nipple through your dress.
“Jump,” he commands, and you secure your legs behind his back while he carries you to the sink, placing you on the brink of it. His lips suck on your neck, collarbone and then, after removing your dress, your breast too, surely leaving marks.
The sex is nothing like when you were together, before he left. He’s much more rough and daring, whispering things in your ear that would make his younger self blush, and he has to cover your mouth to prevent you from making too much noise.
But he’s still considerate enough to make sure to finish you both, and then he stays inside you for a few seconds before pulling out and grabbing your clothing from the floor.
He throws your dress, bra and panties at you and then pulls his boxer shorts on and buttons up his shirt.
You slide down the sink, trying to catch your breath and laughing at his struggle with putting on the tight skinny jeans.
“I can’t believe you still wear those,” you begin, raising your eyebrows, “I remember you said they made you look ‘punk rock’.”
He chuckles, finally succeeding in his attempt at pulling up the black jeans.
“Well, they look good with almost everything and you gotta admit I do look more tough with these on than my old pizza pajamas pants,” he responds and winks at you, making you giggle once more.
“I actually have those in my drawer back home. They may not be trendy or ‘punk rock’, but I swear to God they are the comfiest piece of clothing ever,” you admit and then realize how weird it must sound that an ex has your pajamas laying around after three years of being broken up. “Wow, that sounded creepier than I intended.”
He smiles reassuringly at you, “no worries, Y/N. I still wear that necklace you gave me with the fake shark tooth sometimes as well, so we’re even.” You mirror his grin, remembering when you bought him the necklace. It was when he first went to London, and you wanted to gift him something to remind him of home. You wandered through Sydney all day, not finding anything worth paying for before stumbling upon the fake shark tooth in one of the tourist shops down by the harbor. You knew Luke would find it funny (and perhaps just a little cool too) and you don’t think you’ll ever be able to forget how thankful he looked when you gave it to him.
You were joining his family visiting him in London, and upon your leave, you had offered him the gift and he immediately got the idea behind, slipping the necklace over his head and pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, whispering “I love you so much,” when you pulled apart.
Luke clears his throat and shakes you from your thoughts. You can’t remove the smile from your lips, feeling better than you have in a long time and looking forward to spending more time with Luke. There’s so much you want to hear about and so many things you want to tell him. And you’re extremely glad you went to the bar tonight.
But then Luke speaks, and every trace of happiness once again leaves your body, “Well, I should probably get going. It was nice catching up with you Y/N, feel free to message me if you’re ever in L.A and up for a round two.”
Your whole body stiffens, but he doesn’t seem to notice or perhaps he just doesn’t care as he presses a short kiss on your cheek before opening the door and leaving you alone.
You’re unable to move, too much in shock to even think comprehendible, but then someone opens the door to the bathroom and asks if you’re finished out there, and you leave, feeling like a zombie like the ones in the movies you watched with your father when you were a kid.
You stop by the bar and look down where the shattered glass still lays right beside your feet, just like the broken remains of your heart. Because he isn’t your Luke anymore, he’s just a heart-breaking mess who used to be the love of your life.
But even now, he still has the ability to shatter your heart into millions of pieces. And you hate him for it.
Summary: You are still in the process of figuring out who you are after a messy break up with famous band member Ashton Irwin, but then you run into him at a paint store. (wow i suck at summaries)
A/N: eeeekk i love angst. so. much. Perhaps I have dark soul lol. I’m working on a lot of different pieces at the moment so keep yourselves updated!
TW: None, I think? Language, perhaps?
Masterlist
I don’t own the picture, it’s from Ashton’s instagram.
You push the button on the coffee machine and enjoys the way it breaks the dead silence in your apartment. Never in your whole life have you been this happy for something material but then again, it isn’t just a coffee machine that makes insanely good coffee: it’s also a step towards freeing yourself.
The brown liquor pours into your favourite cup on which the faces of you and your best friend are placed. She gave it you for your 17th birthday and although five years have passed, you still drink your coffee from it every morning.
You like how comforting it is to have habits. You’ve learned that even the smallest things can make you feel more at home, and since your apartment is all bare at the moment, you’ll take anything that makes it feel more like home.
All your belongings are boxed up in your hallway, but you haven’t had the energy to unpack yet so right now, it’s just you, a madras on the floor and your coffee machine. It’s been like this for the past week and you’re almost considering just to live like this forever. Life hasn’t felt this simple in a long time and every day that goes, you catch yourself smiling wider to the cashier at Walmart, sleeping better and longer and breathing a little easier. You’re making progress.
The bitterness has been sweetened by cream, and so the delicious taste fills your mouth as you take a sip of your drink.
He always preferred it jet black and tried everything to convince you that coffee shouldn’t be drunk any other way but as black and made-from-scratch as possible. He even went to new specialist stores to get the best coffee beans possible and never let you even pour a tiny drop of milk in it, insisting that it was a “disgrace” to lessen the taste.
So now, it feels like a small victory every time the machine makes the sweetest cup possible.
You smile at the thought, feeling a little petty but whatever. He won’t know, anyway.
You don’t have any plans for today and it feels like the world is full of possibilities and offers. Perhaps you could try out the sushi place around the corner or call that friend you haven’t spoken to in months or just unpack a little and then find a new TV-show to watch, letting yourself get caught up in other’s fictional problems instead of your own.
You lean against the kitchen counter, looking around and taking everything in while drinking the rest of your coffee. It’s nothing compared to your former apartment, but you feel at home in the neighbourhood and there’s a cozy vibe to the apartment you’re fond of. The walls could use some colour, though. Perhaps it would look good with a dark blue wall in your bedroom? Or painting the bathroom pink? No one’s stopping you. And so, you throw on an old pair of sneakers and a worn-out denim jacket before you lock the door behind you.
You only know of one shop that sells good quality paint for a fair price and although it’s in your old neighbourhood half an hour drive from here, you don’t hesitate to go.
Lately, you’ve taken great joy in just driving by yourself, singing falsely at the top of your longs to whatever bad pop song the radio played. It’s not that he was judgemental or that you weren’t comfortable around him, but when your boyfriend is a member of one of the most popular bands in the world, there’s a certain pressure to at least hitting some of the notes when you sing. But well, you don’t have to care about that anymore.
After having a concert in the front seat for half an hour, you park your car outside the paint shop and jump out, humming the song you just sung.
It’s the first time in years you’ve gone out without sunglasses or a hat to cover at least some of your face from the paparazzies but to be honest, you forgot while being so caught up in the euphoria of being able to do whatever you want and you’re pretty sure it’s been long enough since the breakup that most magazines have stopped caring what you’re doing on a day off.
A bell rings when you step through the door, and the dark-skinned woman behind the cash register nods in your direction before looking down at her phone again.
The shop seems empty today, most people probably being too busy with work to bother buying new paint.
You look around, trying to figure out where the pink and blue paint is located when a hunched figure snaps your attention. He’s wearing a loose grey hoodie and joggers, but you’d be able to recognize his body anywhere. It used to be the place where you felt most at home, after all.
You stand there paralyzed, so shocked seeing him that you’ve lost all ability to move when he picks up a bucket of white paint and turns around, facing you. It looks like he stops breathing, and you think you do the same, but you’re too focused on him to be sure.
He just stands there, staring you in the eye, hair flat and greasy and prominent bags under his once beautiful hazel eyes that now looks almost empty.
And right in this moment, being able to sing out of key and sweeten your coffee seems like the least of your worries because all you want to do is jump into his arms and beg him to take you back.
“Y/N,” he greets with a voice so low you wouldn’t have heard if it wasn’t for the fact that every fibre of your body is focused on him.
“Hi Ashton.” Your voice cracks when you mention his name and you suddenly become terribly self-aware. Although you’ve missed him so such you feared going insane, you really hadn’t hoped to meet him like this, dressed in night wear, slippers and an old jacket.
Actually, you would have preferred not meeting him at all for at least a couple more months, but the world is not a wish-granting factory, after all. You’ve known that for years, thanks to John Green.
“I-I… What are you doing here? Thought you moved to the other side of town,” he stutters, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him be this nervous. He used to radiate confidence, like being covered in a silky-smooth layer of it.
However, there’s not much of that confidence left right now.
“Yeah, I did, but… I don’t know, the walls are all white and it makes everything seem so impersonal and this is the only shop I know that sells good paint so…” You’re not even sure your explanation makes any sense, but he nods like he gets what you mean and then again, he knows you better than anyone else in the entire world so it’s probably not that hard for him to get you. When you were together, you didn’t even need words to understand each other. Sometimes it almost felt like your brains were connected because you were so in sync.
“What about you, what are you doing here?”
He takes two steps towards you and the closer he gets, the more you realize how bad he looks. “The thing is, Y/N, that I’ve been sitting in our- my bedroom for the last two months, staring at the wall you painted orange when you first moved in. And I keep thinking that I didn’t even like that colour until you came into my life with your orange sundresses and painted walls and honestly, I don’t even know who I am without you.” He pauses, takes a deep breath and looks away for a few seconds, clearly trying to blink away tears. “I feel like a fucking blank canvas so I guess it’s only suitable that my walls will be too.”
The lump in your throat is impossible to swallow, and you can feel your hands grow sweaty. “Sometimes a blank canvas is nice, Ashton. It doesn’t have a lot of baggage,” you mutter, staring at your feet. “Gives you a chance to figure out who you wanna be.”
You can see his feet come closer, but you don’t dare to look up. “I know who I wanna be, Y/N.” He reaches out for your cheek, and finally, you force yourself to look up, instantly loosing yourself in his auburn orbs. “I wanna be your future. The person you depend on when everything’s shit. The man waiting for you at the altar. Not the idiot who broke your heart.”
You feel the tears stream down your cheeks, the saltwater a well-known companion considering how much time you’ve spent crying the last half year. You lean in until your lips collide with his, but it doesn’t feel like it used to. It doesn’t feel like home.
“Come home, Y/N. We’ll work this out,” he begs when your lips have parted, but you shake your head and take a small step back.
“I’m so sorry, Ashton. But it wouldn’t be right.” He looks surprised. Perhaps he thought the kiss meant something else. That it was a make-up-kiss instead of a goodbye-kiss. “I love you, don’t ever doubt that. I love you like I’ve never loved anybody else but our relationship and your lifestyle, it wasn’t healthy for me. I need stability and I need someone who is there for me and who supports me in every decision I make, even if it is drinking my coffee with milk and cream.”
You try to smile at him, but it only makes you cry harder, so you gather everything in you to continue your explanation. “And I like being a blank canvas right now. I like getting a do-over, a chance to reconsider if I even like orange anymore. Because this past year has changed me. After being left all alone, even when you were home, feeling like shit and doubting myself because I felt like you’d stopped loving me, I’ve changed. I need to get to know the new me. And you don’t fit in that equation, Ashton.”
You take a deep breath after your long flow of speech, your stomach turning. He looks completely, utterly broken, but it’s not your place to comfort him anymore. His friends, the people he has actually prioritized and been there for, will have to repay that favour now. “I’m sorry, Ashton,” you whisper, and then you turn on your heel and walk out of the store, finally firmly closing the door to your past with Ashton. You’ll buy paint another day, you decide. Right now, it’s time for a drink.
And while you get into your car, smiling through tears and feeling like a heavy weight has been lifted from your chest, Ashton falls down on the floor, salt water clouding his vision and hands trembling. He knows he has fucked up, but he always thought you’d be there, granting him your forgiveness and mending his pain with your presence. Nevertheless, you’re gone now, and he can do nothing but blame himself for letting this be your only choice. If only he had treated you better.
A/N: This is just a small blurb I wrote the other day because at the moment can’t seem to finish anyting other than that. I hope you’ll enjoy anyway x
TW: mentions of cheating, swear words
Masterlist
“How do you move on? You move on when your heart finally understands that there is no turning back.” - J.R.R. Tolkien
He’s smiling at his friend, lips widely parted and teeth put on full display. His head is cleanly shaved, and even though you like his old curls better, you still think it suits him. It makes him a little edgier though, like the cute boy with the plump cheeks is gone and in his place stands a manlier person with cutting cheekbones and sharp features.
He laughs at something Roy says, and his coffee-brown irises light up. You’ve always adored the way they seem so full of life, and though you also feel a little sting, it warms your heart that they’ve gained back the shine that had you falling in love in seconds. It suits him, this kind of careless happiness. And you pray that this time, it’s not just temporary.
It was never your intention to hurt him, and the image of him that night has haunted you for the past many months, as well as the hatred towards yourself and the question you never seem to be able to answer: Why did you have to ruin everything?
You want to talk to him, want to apologize to him again and ask him if he will take you back, but you know it wouldn’t be fair to him. And you’re by no means obligated to be that selfish anymore, not after everything you’ve done and everything you’ve ruined. But you still wish you were.
A girl walks up to him and he places his arm loosely around her neck like it couldn’t be more normal; like it’s something he does all the time, and judging by the way she instinctively nuzzles into his chest it really is. You read it in his body language and the look in his eyes seconds before it happens, but although you’re not surprised when their lips meet, you can’t deny the sting in your chest. Their lips mould into each other and for a moment, their bodies are one beautiful sculpture. They just fit together, and when they pull back and look each other in the eyes, smiles so big it looks like they are to pop off their faces any minute.
Contrary to what some believe after the mistake you made, you loved Calum deeply, but you would fool yourself if you thought the two of you was a match made in heaven. Besides the fact that you couldn’t deal with the distance that came with dating a touring band member like him, the two of you just never really clicked in the way that leaves the rest of the world envious and in awe, despite the intense love the both of you felt towards the other. But the two of them really do seem like they fit together; like it’s meant to be.
You suddenly remember what your friend said when you sobbingly asked her how you ever would get over Calum. “How do you move on? You move on when your heart finally understands that there is no turning back.” And when you look at Calum and his new girlfriend, you finally understand what she meant. Because although it hurts a little to see him this happy with another woman, it also feels relieving; like it’s setting you free. Like you can finally forgive yourself for what you did, and you can only hope he someday will be able to forgive you as well. But until then your own forgiveness is enough.
They’re sitting across each other in a small booth in that fast food place no one knows but them. His green eyes are teary, while hers are completely dry. But even though there are no sign of salt water on her beautiful face, the sadness is painted all over it. “I thought we were gonna make, ya know?” he says, voice breaking. She nods, understanding what he’s trying to say, even though no further words are leaving his plump lips. They’re starring into each other’s eyes for a long time, until she breaks the silence. “I thought you should know that I actually did it. I got it. The tattoo.” He knows what she’s talking about and even though the tears now are running down his face, he looks happy. Or grateful, at least. “Can I see?” His voice is nearly impossible to hear but she just nods as if she knew that he would ask for that. Under the thin fabric of her tee shirt is three small words written in black ink »we’ll never die«. “It’s for you, Michael,” she says with a thick voice full of unconditionally love. And he knows. He knows that the ink represents their undying love, he knows what it means to her, to them, and in that moment he knows that he one day will be happy again. Not tomorrow, not next week, maybe not in a very long time, but some day he will feel the happiness floating through his veins again and he knows that he will think of her in that moment, that he will think of all the memories they created together and he will be able to let go. He will be alright. “Thank you,” he whispers and they both know that all has been said between them. That they had their happy middle and that means they can accept their heartbreaking ending. She’s looking softly at him and it has never been more obvious that they love each other. But she stands up and turns away from him for the last time. Because sometimes, love just isn’t enough.
Hey lovely, the break up blurbs are just so amazing! Could you do one in which Y/N helps Calum after a tough breakup? thx, love
(thank you so much I’m glad you liked them!x)
The sound of your ringtone causes you to jump from where you’d fallen asleep on your sofa, the television still playing the film you’d put on. Calum’s face flashes up on the screen, your phone buzzing as he calls you. Sighing as you notice that it was nearing midnight, you slide the answer button along, pulling the phone up to your ear.
“Cal if this is your drunk ass calling me to pick you up again we’re not friends any more.” You mutter, only half joking as you already begin to get ready to go collect your best friend. When he doesn’t respond however, your eyebrows furrow together, your movements slowing. “Calum?”
“She left me.” His voice is quiet and you almost miss it, instantly snapping into action when realisation hits. “She’s gone.”
“What do you need? Tequila? Chocolate? A stripper? A combination of the three?” You ask, hurrying around your flat to grab anything he might need.
“My best friend would be nice.” Calum murmurs, and you stop, a sad smile slipping onto your features.
“On my way.” You assure him, pulling on some shoes before grabbing your keys and leaving your flat.
He’s a mess when you get there, hair ruffled and eyes bloodshot. Tears stain his cheeks and you can see his hands shaking before he’s wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in the crook of your neck.
“Hey, shh, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” You soothe, one hand rubbing his back gently whilst the other laces through his hair. You walk him backwards, kicking his door shut. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
“She said she never loved me.” He mumbles into your skin. You bite your tongue from saying what you wanted to, and let him cry instead. “She said she was only with me for fame. I thought she loved me Y/N.”
“I know.” Your voice is soft and you try and hide your anger at Calum’s now ex girlfriend. “I’ll go slap her if you want. Take a bitch down.”
“Can you just stay with me?” He asks, finally pulling away to look at you. You smile reassuringly, lacing your fingers with his and pulling him towards his room.
“For as long as you need me too.”
finishing up breakup!5sos night with @felicityash
"I never though we'd end like this" with Mikey or Cal? Could you make it as sad as you can though? Sorry if that's weird, I'm just an emotional mess 😬
He wordlessly slides the papers across the dining table, kicking back his chair as he storms off. You flinch when you hear him punch the wall behind you, closing your eyes as a string of profanities fall from his lips.
“I guess I’ll be fucking going then.” He mutters darkly, finally making you to face him.
“Because it isn’t like you’ve been here that much any way.” You snap, eyes locked on the divorce papers you’d just presented him with. “It won’t make much difference considering you pretty much moved in with Ashton again months ago.”
“Whatever. I’ll get my stuff tomorrow when you’re at work.” He rolls his eyes, only prompting you to do the same.
“Like you’ve got that much left to take.” Your words are bitter as you turn away from him, going back to your room before his words make you freeze.
“What the fuck happened Y/N? Why did you stop loving me?”
You spin back to snap at him, only to find him watching you, crumpled and eyes full of tears. You take a small step forward, the tears stinging your own eyes.
“Because you stopped loving me first.” You whisper. Calum shakes his head, but you ignore him. “You did Cal. You gave up on this long before I did. I as still trying, still making dinner for two when you were out who knows where. Still organising our lives when you were only focused on yourself. I only stopped when you gave me no reason to carry on. I’m not the reason this marriage crumbled Calum.”
You look down at your hand, the two rings he’d given you still sitting on your finger.
“I never thought we’d end like this.” You whisper, looking up at him. “When you proposed, I was the happiest I’ve ever been. I thought I was the luckiest girl in the whole world. And I knew you loved me. But I haven’t felt like that in six months. I don’t remember the last time you said it. Fuck, I don’t remember the last time we even had a conversation this long.”
A tear rolls down your cheek as you slide the rings off your hand.
“Don’t do this Y/N, please.” He begs, but you shake your head, placing them down beside the papers. “Please Angel, I can save us.”
“There is no us to save Calum.” You tell him quietly. “Not anymore.”
finishing up breakup!5sos night with @felicityash
@felicityash and @pretendtobepunkrock 's breakup!5sos blurb night
You got a phone call that night at 2 in the morning. Michael was sobbing hysterically about his most recent break up. Him and Allison had dated for over 3 years and he caught her making out in the back seat of another guy’s car.
“Y-y-y/n?” he whimpered.
“Awe. Michael. It’s okay. She wasn’t worth it.” I soothed.
“Can, can I drive over there?” he asked.
“God no Michael! You’re an emotional wreck. I’ll come get you alright?” I said as I hung up.
I knew it was 2 in the morning but Michael was hysterical after this break up. He didn’t live far, and no one was out this late so it was peaceful. At least until I saw Michael on his front steps. He was in his grey jumper, staring at his phone, hoping that Allison would call him. “C'mon Michael. Let’s head to my house. We can have left over pizza and watch some movies okay?” You said as you approached the crying boy. He only nodded his head in agreement and took your hand when you offered it. “You know. I still can’t believe it actually happened.” he whispered a when you guys got back to your house. “She wasn’t worth it Mike.” You said to him. You told him to sit on the couch and find a movie as you walked to your kitchen for pizza. Even after the movie had started, and the pizza was gone, Michael was still silently crying. He really did love Allison and she broke his heart on so many levels. “You know,” you said as you paused the movie, “there are a bunch of other girls for you to date. And they aren’t all like her.” “But I loved her y/n. I loved her so much.” he mumbled, toying with the strings of his jumper. You put your arm around him and pulled him close as he started to sob again. He put his hand in his pocket and pulled a box out of it. “I was gonna propose…” Your mouth fell open, but no sounds came out. He was going to spend the rest of his life with this girl, and she broke his heart. “I loved her y/n. I did. I was going to propose to her. I didn’t want to lose her. But she didn’t care if she lost me.” he yelled as he threw the box across the room. He began to sob again and you just held him close, petting his hair and whispering to him over and over “it’s going to be okay.” You had never seen Michael get this emotional. He was always kept to himself about how he felt. Yet here he was, sobbing hysterically as you held him. It took a long time, but eventually the crying stopped. “Michael?” you whispered. Soft snores were heard from his mouth, that sound being the only one to break the silence. He loved this girl so much. He had a ring. He expected to be with her forever. But he was so very wrong. Your eyes eventually shut as you slept through the night to hear your alarm go off at 8 the next morning. Both you and Michael were still cuddled together on the couch, Netflix was on in the background, an empty pizza box on the table, the ring in the corner. You quickly and quietly got up to retrieve the ring and hide it from Michael, you didn’t want him to see it. You knew it wasn’t going to stop his feelings, but it could help. “Y/n?” Michael spoke, his voice low and raspy from sleep. You turned and went back to your couch as he sat up. “Can you hold me? I dont want to be alone.” he asked. “Absolutely.” You responded. You held Michael in your arms as he quietly cried himself back to sleep. You knew it was going to be a long time before he got better and got over Allison. And you were definitely willing to hold him close as long as he needed you too. You wanted to make sure he wasn’t hurting when you let go.
I want you to hurt like I do + Michael please babe (I may right my own version later but I'm so tired lol)
(lol it’s cool babe i got you, also hi i miss you)
The banging on your door causes your eyebrows to furrow. You glance at your phone, the time being 20:02 and you rack your brains for any plans you may have forgotten about, already having a half formed apology on your lips as you pull open the door.
Except it dies when you find Michael standing there instead of one of your friends.
“What are you doing here?” You plan for the words to come out harsh and bitter, but your voice cracks and it sounds more pathetic than anything else.
“Why aren’t you affected by this like I am?” He asks, his voice more cracked and broken than your own. His eyes are bloodshot and you can smell the alcohol on him. “Why are you so okay with all of this?”
“Michael you’re drunk.” You sigh, pulling him gently by the sleeve into your flat. “Go sit down, I’m calling Ashton.”
“How are you so calm? I think about you and I’m a mess and seeing you right now is killing me, how are you so fine?” He questions, shuffling over to where you were previously sitting whilst you grab your phone, finding Ashton’s number and dialling quickly. Just as he answers, Michael speaks again. “I want you to hurt like I do.”
Ashton speaks but your breath hitches, eyes on Michael who looks so broken and small on your sofa.
“Yeah, sorry.” You shake your head, tearing your eyes away from Michael and walking away into your kitchen. “Well, actually no. No, it isn’t. Mike’s here and he’s drunk and Ash he’s a mess and I can’t deal with this. He’s asking me why I’m not affected when it’s killing me, but I can’t get back together with him. I can’t be in this relationship with him any more.”
“I’m on my way.” He sighs as you breath in relief. “Just, hang on until I get there okay? I’m sorry.”
“Just, hurry. Please.” You hang up then, turning around to find Michael staring at ou wide eyed in the doorway. “Mikey-”
“I’m so fucking in love with you and you don’t even care.” He spits, suddenly angry. You sigh, moving past him as you try to find something to do whilst waiting for Ashton. “Why can’t you care?”
“I do care alright? I do care.” You snap at him, whirling around to glare at the taller boy. “I care more than you fucking know, and it sucks because dammit Michael you were supposed to be it for me and you weren’t. So stop telling me I don’t care and I’m not hurting when I am. I just can’t afford to let it stop me from living, because if I do I’ll fall apart and I don’t want to do that, especially not in front of you. So just go sit down and wait for Ashton to come and get you.”
You storm into your room, not moving until you hear a knock on the door and the two boys leave fifteen minutes later. Ashton texts you to say sorry, but you don’t respond, finally letting the tears flow. Because of course you hurt like Michael did. How could you not when you lost the love of your life.
