Summary: writing songs has always helped with understanding and digesting her emotions, until she finds herself in a situation that cannot be transcripted into words
Warnings: fluff, mentions of angst, no miscommunication but not enough communication,
Wordcount: 1.8k
Masterlist, YSPSFAGSIL Masterlist
The streets were dimly lit, every second lamp turned off by the city to save energy and protect the insects living in the surrounding. The blue of her heart reflecting in the sky she was walking beneath. Her feet heavy as they made their way further away from the train station she just told him goodbye at. Arms wrapped around herself to keep his scent and touch in her vicinity.
Her head was spinning as she opened the door to her apartment only to find his ghost still lingering everywhere. The kitchen still held the smell of the coffee he made for them in the morning. Her record collection was filled with new names he picked out for her. Half her closet was his now. His dirty clothes were mixed with hers. Lyrics he wrote for her were scribbled next to her own. A duet that neither could finish in honesty but it felt right all the same.
Letting her fingers trace over his handwriting, the messy letters and crossed out words that she would remember even when he didn't believe them to be worth it.
Settling down in the spot he claimed as his own ever since he came over for the first time, her legs curled underneath herself, face pressed into the cushion that still held the scent of his cologne from the hours spent on the sofa together.
Their last meal together was packed away in Tupperware, left in the fridge to hold on for a bit longer than it normally would. Her heart felt like it was laying there next to it. Frozen up to not suffocate from his departure.
It made her feel insane. How she missed him twenty minutes after he left as if she hadn't seen him in a year. Love was that cruel, she had to admit it to herself at some point. This was love and she felt every bit of it because of him. A single individual that she knew for a few months was now the reason why she carried her head high and looked in the mirror in the morning a bit less critical.
Reaching for the notebook he bought her after she complained about her previous one running out of empty pages on their first date and she couldn't find a good enough looking replacement and the black ink pen she carried around since sixth grade.
Tapping it against one of the pages that were still patiently waiting to be filled, nothing that she thought of felt right. Nothing felt like it conveyed her feelings in the way that reflected her emotions. No words could capture her truth like they were once able to.
Songs had always been her escape. It was the medium she fell back on when her own experiences felt too big to carry them around all alone. They made her understand the world that was spinning without stopping and waiting for her to catch up. They made her understand herself.
Though now, thanks to the guy with messy brown hair and a smile that brightened all her darkest nights, she felt like not even her most trusted strategy could help her out of tragedy this time.
She tried to write it down: his smile, the feelings of his hands on her waist, the racing of her heart when she woke up and saw him still asleep next to her. The image of the sun uncovering the small amount of freckles that liked to hide away otherwise. The reoccurring dreams where he starred as the main role. How her heart felt aflame when he kissed her for the first time and every time after.
It continued like that for weeks.
Every day she sat down, his hoodie or shirt or pants over her body, the coffee his mom send them because he swore on Irish coffee beans, steaming next to her empty notebook. Every day he called and every day she told him that she missed him but never how much he affected her. And every day she gave up on it by noon, walking out into the streets and trying to get herself under control until it got too cold to wander aimlessly. Retreating back into the uncomfortable silence of her apartment, putting on one of his records and telling herself that it brought them closer together.
"Only a few more shows," he reminded her over the phone ever night. Her ear pressed close to the speaker, the sound of his voice treating up to her brain and making itself at home. The memory familiar enough to echo in her dreams like she was standing between two mountains and he was her own voice calling out. But he never came out.
And 'only a few more shows' turned into two shows two hours away. Two shows that she'd seen a million times and that her schedule had no time preserved in for her to take her car keys out of the little ceramic bowl by the door anyway and made her way down the highway. Speeding like a car with no brakes, her eyes focused on the goal. Instead, her goal were a few bearable lyrics on a sheet of paper that wouldn't end up ripped out and crumbled in frustration.
Two hours that felt like eternity as she watched the black of the TV and had to put on a cheap movie that would distract her enough to not image the turn of his keys in the door when she knew for a fact that they only finished the show. Let alone, wrapped up and went on their way, if they even got around to driving back home that day.
Closing night was a pub night that would rein in until the early mornings most times. She knew from experience how keen and eager everyone was for that last night spent together with no other worries ahead. So, she stopped pretending that the hope of his coming home early was occupying her mind more than what time she went to bed and the hours of sleep she would get that night. Staying in her place on the sofa and trying to shake out whatever came to her mind that could make her less wanting.
Dreams had often tricked her into thinking they were real, she had woken up enough times twice a night to find that the first time wasn't her at all but a dream projection of what could happen if she was in another reality. The sound of his voice was in her dreams too often to differentiate it from the real thing these days. The chain of previously imagined actions all aligning too well for her to actually be waking up in reality.
Though the silence felt too real when Eli stopped in his tracks in the living room, his gaze felt too soft to be a dream. And when she rubbed her eyes, pulling her skin down along her cheeks and jaw, the stretch was apparent in her previous state of stillness. Turning to find him staring with a soft smile on his face and approaching her too gently with too quiet feet to turn into something she'd wake up sweating from.
"Are you real?" she asked, her voice too far back in her head to count as a whisper. And when his lips pressed against her temple, they felt too real to not be anything but actually him.
Before he could answer, she was already on her feet. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, pulling him down and breathing him in. The feeling of his chest pressed against hers finally making sense. A feeling that she could describe. The rapid beating of his heart against hers feeling like the bass of trumpets etching through a jazz piece. The simple vibration of his laugh setting her aflame. The feeling of his shirt over his shoulders acting like a barrier between their love. The barrier that kept her from writing. The barrier that made her go insane.
Taking his face into her hands, she pulled him into her before he could kick off his shoes. Both their bodies falling into the cushion of the sofa, his spot now theirs. Her blanket now beneath their bodies. The crumbled pieces of paper scratching along his thigh like knives. The danger of disappointment in her words that she didn't want to be true etching through the taste of each other.
"I don't want you to go again without knowing whether you'll come here or go to your own place," she mumbled against his lips, leaving enough space between them to tell him her wish but not enough to hide the tears falling down her face. The prints of her sadness carried over on his own cheeks. "I want us to have one place to go to. I want us to go to the same place."
"I don't want to go anywhere else but where you are," he confessed too. His words coming out wrecked against his heavy breathing.
"I couldn't even write when you were gone," she laughed. Pulling away to pick up a dozen ripped out pages that were mostly blacked out or even destroyed through the tip of the pen. "Nothing was able to describe what I felt. Nothing could ever describe you in the way that I see you."
"It goes both ways, love." Eli's hands moved over her hips, fingers treating beneath her shirt. The endless lines decorating his palm melting into her waist. His warmth transferring over into her chest. "I tried to write something for months and nothing comes out."
Relieved at his assurance, she fell into his chest. Head rested in the crook of his neck, eyes cast down to watch his legs move as he kicked off his shoes. His hands holding her in place as he shifted his position, both legs sprawled out over the sofa. Reaching for the book, turning the light behind him on, they went through past texts. Talking for hours about what they'd written but showed no one else, the texts they found to be too much that actually were everything they felt. Honesty was always the most scary of emotions and all they wanted was to be honest in how they felt.
Eli noticed when her breath settled, he noticed when her lashes grazed his neck and fell shut. Her fists curled into his shirt like she didn't want him to slip away in the middle of the night. Their legs tangled up together. Their hearts beating as one.
Turning off the light, reaching for the blanket abandoned on the floor and tucking her in, he felt like he could finally breath. Kissing her head, mumbling sweet nothings until he fell to exhaustion's feet and met her in dreams again.
would you be able write a fic about getting high with the lads? maybe like with the other lasses and being elis girl?
Wait I’m actually giggling over this (and it’s not like I’ve daydreamed about this before or anything…👀)
Hopefully this is as you imagined it HAHAHA (I also put my own little twist on it so hopefully that's okay xxx)
Weed Talking — Elijah Hewson
Summary: (based off request) The guys are back from tour and you invite them and some old friends over to your childhood home. Your feelings for Elijah have been around for years, but when you get high they seem to heighten, and there’s no hiding from him…
Warnings: mentions/use of weed, a few suggestive moments and thoughts, alcohol, aggressive make out sesh.
A/N: I decided to put a bit of a spin on the request just to spice it up a little bit. Hopefully that’s okay with everyone hehehe xxx
There was something about being back in your childhood home with all of them — like the years hasn't passed at all. You'd set out blankets in the back garden, grabbed spare duvets and snacks, and someone (probably Rob) had already queued the same playlist you all used when you were seventeen.
Rob's girlfriend, Martha, and your best friend, Caoimhe, were sitting cross-legged under the fairy lights you'd strung up that afternoon, passing a joint between them while Sam and Lucy argued about whether the moon looked "mystical" or "like a bad drawing." Ryan and Josh were somewhere near the fire pit your parents fitted in about a year ago now, laughing over God knows what, and Elijah...well, Elijah was beside you.
Too close, maybe. His leg pressed lightly against yours, neither of you shifting away. The weed had hit (so did the whiskey), mellow and heavy, and your whole body felt like it was floating. But your mind — your mind was doing somersaults.
You could smell him. That same cedarwood-after-smoke scent he always carried, always just barely there. And you shouldn't notice that, shouldn't care. But the warmth pooling low in your stomach said otherwise.
"You're quiet," Elijah said suddenly, voice low like a secret.
You glanced at him. His eyes were red-rimmed and a little glassy, his curls a mess from when he kept running his hands through them. He looked unfairly good. Not even in a rockstar way — just...him. Familiar and infuriating and heartbreakingly safe.
"Just thinking," you said, blinking up at the stars like they could save you from the daydream you were slipping into.
"About?"
You should've lied. You should've said something dumb — the stars, Lucy's nonsense, or how Josh still couldn't roll a proper joint. But you were too high for that kind of finesse.
"You."
He tilted his head, his expression unreadable in the low light. "Yeah?"
You gave a half-shrug, suddenly feeling exposed. "Dunno. Just...It's weird, isn't it? How we've all known each other forever, but sometimes I look at you and it feels like I'm seeing you for the first time."
He didn't answer right away. He just stared, eyes dropping to your mouth for half a second too long, before flicking back up to your eyes.
The air thickened. Like summer heat before a thunderstorm.
"Eli," you said, voice soft, guilty even. "I probably shouldn't say any more."
"Probably not," he agreed.
Neither of you moved.
The laughter in the background faded to a blur, the music distant. Everything felt underwater. Too slow. Too much.
You imagined his hands. On your hips. On your neck. Tangled in your hair. You imagined saying fuck it and kissing him, right there, while everyone else was too stoned to care. You imagined him pulling you into his lap and whispering the things you wanted to hear but could never ask for.
You looked away,
"God," you muttered under your breath. "I need water or I'm going to say something really fucking stupid."
Elijah laughed. Quiet, low, raspy.
"I'd probably say something worse."
Your gaze snapped back to his, and this time you didn't look away.
There was something unspoken hanging there — thick, heavy, humid — suspended in the summer air and the smoke curling lazily around the two of you.
He leaned in just a little, breath brushing your ear as he whispered, "Tell me later."
Your heart stuttered.
And maybe it was the weed. Maybe it was the years of almosts. Maybe it was everything finally catching up with you.
But in that moment, your daydreams didn't feel so far from reach anymore.
—————————————————
The night had slipped into that dangerous kind of blur — too many joints lit at once, whiskey glasses way too full, everyone too relaxed, too loud, too far gone.
Caoimhe was giggling at something Josh had muttered under his breath, their shoulders pressed against yours like bookends holding you up. But across the fire, Elijah hadn't laughed in minutes.
His eyes were on you. Still.
It was relentless. His stare wasn't subtle, wasn't gentle. It burned. Possessive. Heavy. The kind of look that sank into your skin and didn't let go. He didn't care who saw it. His glass was low in his hand, fingers loose, his star ring catching the firelight — and still, all his attention was on you.
You shifted under it, tried to laugh at something Rob said, tried to focus on Martha gripping Rob's arm while she stared at him like he hung the moon just for her. But it was like Elijah's gaze was pulling at the hem of your linen button up shirt, trailing down the slope of your shoulder, setting fire to the inside of your throat.
You couldn't take it anymore.
"I—uh—water. Need some water," you said, voice too sharp, too fast. You were on your feet before anyone could respond, your steps uneven as you practically bolted into your house.
The kitchen lights were too bright. The cold water from the tap hit your glass in a hiss, and you drank it like it might save you. But it didn't. You slammed the glass down harder than you mean to, chest rising and falling like you'd run a marathon.
Head in your hands. Elbows digging into the marble counter. You squeezed your eyes shut.
"Get a grip," you whispered to yourself. "He's your friend. He's always been your friend. Just your friend."
But your body didn't feel like it got the memo. It was still humming, charged. And your mind — your mind was deeper in the gutter, imagining things that you couldn't un-imagine.
The sliding backdoor squeaked.
You didn't need to look up to know who it was.
He didn't say anything at first. Just walked in and shut the door behind him like it was nothing. Like you weren't about to combust.
When you finally looked up, he was leaning against the wall, hands in the pockets of his black jeans, curls messy, whiskey eyes locked on yours.
"You alright?" he asked. But he knew the answer. You could see it in his stupid, knowing smirk.
You let out a humourless laugh, still breathless. "Not really, no."
He pushed off the wall and walked toward you, slow like he was giving you a chance to run. You didn't.
"You left in a bit of a hurry," he said, voice lower now, almost careful. "Did I... do something?"
His eyes searched your face, softening just enough to make your stomach flip.
"You know you did," you whispered, too honest, too wrecked to lie. "Back there. What you said — how you said it, about me telling you what I was thinking later. You can't just... do that."
He stepped closer. You didn't move.
"I meant it. I always want to know what your thinking. I always have."
That was it.
That was the thing that broke you.
One second you were staring at him — at his flushed cheeks and parted lips, his chest rising slow like he was trying to keep it together too — and the next, your hands were in his shirt and your mouth was on his.
It was messy, immediate. Years of repressed feelings, passing glances, drunken almosts, and high-stoned fantasies crashing into one kiss that was too much and not enough at the same time.
He kissed you like he'd been waiting. Like he'd thought about it every night on every tour. Like he couldn't believe it was actually happening. His hands gripped your waist, pulled you flush against him, and you gasped into his mouth, already dizzy from everything — the weed, the whiskey, him.
His lips trailed down your neck, teeth grazing just enough to make your knees weaken. Your hand tangled in his curls, the same ones you'd watched him push back over and over, wondering what they'd feel like between your fingers.
You were halfway up on the counter before either of you realised it — clothes still on, but the tension electric, skin burning. It was like every fantasy you'd buried under years of friendship had broken the surface all at once.
When he pulled back, just barely, his breath hit your lips.
"This isn't just the weed talking, right?"
You shook your head, whispering, "No, it's not."
He nodded, like that was all he needed, and kissed you again — deeper this time. Slower.
And you knew it then and there, that there was no going back after this.
genuinely attached at the hip (dare i say enmeshment)
his love language is quality time or physical touch
he goes all out for birthdays, anniversaries, etc.
he loves doing all the corny couple things, the only issue is that he is terrible at all of those things
ice skating together which ended in him refracturing his rib. a pottery date in which, despite wearing an apron, you both ended up caked with clay. he has spent so much money at the fair trying to win you a stuffed animal
he's very clumsy
speaking of money, he likes to spend it on you (ik that bono money is good)
hair, nails, souvenirs, anything you want
and back to bono, you get along super well with his family. they saw him trailing you around like a lost puppy and just knew you are the one
you hang out with his siblings solo all the time. you stream jordan's music, watch eve and john's movies/shows
you fall asleep on facetime together while he's on tour
he has a hard time coming down from a show, so just hearing you breathe and seeing your face, even through a screen is amazing.
when you facetime normally, he holds the phone so close to his face like some grandpa just because he cant be bothered with holding his phone up
when you come with him on tour, it makes his year
hes very big on pda, he wants at least one part of his body touching yours at all times
an arm over you, holding hands, hand on your back, little kisses, etc.
he doesnt see a reason to hide his love for you
this goes for social media too, he loves posting you
he loves spooning, especially to fall asleep (see that one photo of him sleeping cuddling a pillow)
i dont think he has a preference with little or big spoon though
he steals YOUR clothes
a shirt of yours goes missing for three weeks then you see a video of him on stage just sweating it out
good luck getting it back (spoiler alert: you ARENT)
Ryan
half of your texts are just sending selfies back and forth to eachother
he also sends you songs that remind him of you (mainly love songs)
he has a tattoo dedicated to you or matching with you
he's a words of affirmation guy
you get handwritten letters and paragraphs from him all the time
he's also a foodie. whenever you travel, he's already mapped out the places where you are eating
loves a movie date too, but he always buys too many snacks and you both leave with tummyaches
you also spend at least an hour talking about the movie before writing your letterboxd reviews
you're the couple that friends trust to babysit/dogsit
he's such a good caregiver both for dogs and kids, but also to you.
when you're sick or on your period, he goes all out. ordering food, putting on your favorite movies, you aren't getting out of bed on his watch
he's fine with pda but it's not something he tends to initiate unless you ask for it
he does post you on his socials a lot, he just wants to brag about how perfect his partner is
he's also one of those people who get really hot when they sleep, so he tends to stay away from cuddling you to sleep.
that being said, he does love when you fall asleep on him (even if he'll move you once he starts to sweat)
back to the dogs, you two probably tried to foster some
you failed and fell in love with the first one you ever fostered
now you have a puppy running around your home, but ryan's just as energetic as that puppy so it evens out
there's a perfect mix of joking around and serious conversations between you two
Bobby
He's also a foodie. But, in the sense that he really likes cooking
his love language is acts of service
and he acts like a housewife- cooking and cleaning for you
this being said, he cannot have you in the kitchen at the same time as him nor can he bake to save his life
you're like his stylist. you do his hair (dying and braiding it), you've done his makeup (eyeliner for gigs- shoutout ella for putting that idea in my mind)
he really likes it when you play with his hair, especially if you've gotten your nails done
there's a lot of arcade dates
he's so competitive
if you're not a video games person, he makes you one. (he doesn't let you win)
there's a lot of play fighting and wrestling in your relationship too. you guys like making fun of eachother (lightheartedly ofc)
occasionally it goes too far and you guys need to re-establish boundaries
if you come with him on tour, he takes you to all the tourist attractions
lots of museums and sightseeing
he's great at impressions and making you laugh
when sick/on your period, he's always distracting you with some antics
he loves sleeping on you. its often that you wake up with your arm numb from him or having his hair in your face and him on your chest.
he's probably taller than you, so you steal his shirts for nightgowns.
there was a time when you got into an argument and he put your favorite snack on the top shelf so you had to ask him to get it for you.
you realized you underestimated his stubbornness
Josh
the sweetest ever
before he cut his hair, he tried to convince you to teach yourself to retwist his dreads (using youtube)
his love language is physical touch
it's not like eli with how he needs you touching him, but josh feels more comfortable with you
you make him feel more confident also, especially while preforming if you're watching him
a lot of record shop dates, going to gigs and on hikes
he is an alltrails demon, though if you haven't gone on a lot of hikes, he'll only choose easier ones for you.
when your feet hurt, he'll carry you (both on hikes and standard outings)
he loves taking his camera and taking photos of you instead of the views
he's got over a thousand photos of you, off guard, or posing
he's the dream instagram boyfriend
speaking of insta, he doesn't post you on it unless you insist
he wants your relationship to be as private as possible
but with that being said, he's okay with pda. never like anything too crazy, but he's almost always holding your hand
he tends to be a bit more of a homebody, he doesn't frequent pubs as much as the other guys
he hates when you get sappy, which is just all the more motivation for you to do it for birthdays and anniversaries
he also shies away from being sappy towards you. he loves you a lot but just can't put it into words
he gives you a lot of hugs though, they swallow you whole
there's been times when he comes home from tour and just flops ontop of you. no matter how long you want to stay, you have to tell him to move as he is a large muscular man who is heavy.
and he's probably bigger than you, so you steal his shirts all the time
he loves when you sleep on him or being the little spoon (have we seen all those photos of his waist being grabbed?)
a/n: short lil headcannons bc i was bored, i actually really liked making these!
i’d love for you to write something about elijah hewson!!! 🩷🩷🩷
𝐘𝐎𝐔
hiii ofc!! so since i did a smau x written fic for bobby i decided to do a full smau, hope thats ok with u! also i added some f1 babies in here cs why not JAJA. and by all means lovies, send more reqs!!! ♡
yourusername mirrors, cute boy gave me a cig, shhhh, me and tay, on his knees, i can never tie my shoes lol, grwm, mirror seflie?
view all 212903 comments
ynfan21 HELLO WHAT
ynfan45 MOTHER SOFTLAUNCHING ???
ynfan12 the end times have come
taylorswift 😉😉
ynfan100 WHAT DO U KNOW MA'AM
inhalerfan123 why does that look like eli omg
inhalerfan455 AND ITS HIS HANDWRITING ONT HE CIG??
inhalerfan2123 if its eli i will bleach my hair
liked by joshjenkinson_, bobbyskeetz, ryanmcmahon_15 and 389 others
inhalerfan2134 WHAT IS THIS A SIGN
landonorris when r u bringing mystery man to the paddock??
yourusername nevr cs u guys scare him
danielricciardo lando's small body scares even me tbh
rando12 how does she know dany and lando??
ynfan111 dany is like her uncle and she met lando through him
billieeilish the prettiest girl
bobbyskeetz dunno who gave u that cig but trashy handwriting
inhalerfan1123 HELLO BOBBY??
yourusername leave him alone hes just a girl
ynfan123 MOTHER IS IN THE STUDIO I REPEAT SHES IN THE FAWKING STUDIO
liked by yourusername
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yourusername has posted a photo to their sotry!
caption: bought lvr a shirt🧘♀️
replies:
elijahhewson LOVE YOU POSTED THIS ON UR MAIN
bobbyskeetz ur an idiot my god
ynfan22 WHAT I FUCKING KNEW IT
yourusername has deleted this story!
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yourusername
liked by elijahhewson and others
yourusername studio sesh for new music coming soon for u
view all 12382 comments
ynfan122 MOTHER WE SAW THAT
ynfan333 not her dropping a studio pic to throw us off....
inhalerfan111 UR SO SLAY FOR THAT SHIRT
joshjenkinson_ hm i wonder what the song is about
yourusername sorry who are you?
ynfan2222 STOP IT WE KNOW UR LYING
ryanmcmahon_15 you are an idiot
phoebebridgers in love with u
yourusername my sweet baby jesus
oscarpiastri glad i wasn't the one who spoiled u two
this comment was deleted
ynfan1112 OSCAR I SAW THAAF
elijahhewson
liked by inhalerdublin and others
elijahhewson cause my girl ruined her own softlaunch. love you my sweet girl and thank you for the past three years full of love. words will never be able to describe how grateful i am for you and your shitty jokes
view all 22391 comments
yourusername AWW ELI I LOVE YOU
yourusername stop im so sad we were supposed to be mysterious lvrs
elijahhewson its ok love theres always next time (you are stuck with me forever)
bobbyskeetz this is what i have had to endure for the last three fucing years.
inhalerfan22 i just shed a few tears
yourusername that twt thread was onto us
evehewson my favorite girl
yourusername my favorite hewson
elijahhewson OIIIIII
ryanmcmahon_15 so glad she was the one who slipped up we almost posted it on the inhaler acc
ynfan333 she is so godly i cannot live
elijahhewson i know
ynfan342 HELPP HES ONE OF USSSSS
liked by yourusername
joshjenkinson_ ok now drop the song about eli yourusername
yourusername im going to MURDER YOU
elijahhewson you wrote a song about me? 🥹🥹
yourusername it was supposed to be a SURPRISEAZFJE
ynfan211 HELPP JOSH LEAKINGGG
yourusername
liked by elijahhewson and others
yourusername in honor of me ruining my own soft launch, im happy to give u "sweet nothing" ft the taylor swift (thank u tay for agreeing) for my babygirl (thx josh for spoiling the surprise.) this song represents the small things this man has done for me that makes me happy in the world. eli ur kind words, pretty smile, and calmness that comes with being with you makes everything right in the world. thank u for loving me.
view all 42920 comments
elijahhewson i think i just shed a tear
yourusername BABYYY
ryanmcmahon_15 hes not lying i just heard a sob
elijahhewson i love you so much
bobbyskeetz he is never gonna stfu about this.
ynfan234 FT TAYLOR SWIFT WHATTTT
inhalerfan288 "I FIND MYSELF RUNNING TO YOUR SWEET NOTHINGS" LET ME FUCKING DIE IN A HOLE.
taylorswift was such an honor to be apart of your love
yourusername thank u mother love u tons
joshjenkinson_ this is my formal apology.
yourusername WHERE??
joshjenkinson_ there. that was it.
danielricciardo can i finally post the two of u on daniel.jpg ??
Summary: When Eli comes back from tour they feel like strangers, the longer he stays, the closer they get again
Warnings: fluff, consumption of alcohol, lots of dialogue
Wordcount: 2.1k
Masterlist, Inhaler Masterlist
It shouldn't feel as apprehensive as it did while she waited by the exit of the airport. Her own plane having landed twenty minutes earlier and now she was stuck waiting for him.
Sitting by the door, the Spanish coast and salt air already filling her nose whenever someone opened the door to leave. She'd seen people laugh and cry, hug and fall to the floor. Some were fighting already though that would soon pass, as soon as the sun shone down on them and they could see the ocean. She'd seen it all, the good and the bad, in only a few minutes. There were so many people around, she could see it all.
The whole world was spinning the longer she waited, leg bouncing with anxiety and her heart hammering against her chest as if to break free was the only way for it to keep on beating. The only way for her body to function when it came to him was for her heart to be left out of the affair.
It was a tender subject whenever he came back from home. Normally they would rot away together, normally it would only be a couple weeks they hadn't seen each other. Though now they were separated for over three months and phone calls and text messages could never make up for the feeling he got when his eyes scanned the arrival hall, searching for one person in particular.
She'd spotted him long before he had the time to look around the whole place. Knees buckling as she made her way over, luggage abandoned at her seating place, throwing her arms around him with a force that almost knocked him over.
She swore she'd never be one of those people to make a dramatic scene out of meeting someone again though now it felt different. It felt different. To hold on to him was like breathing in the air that kept her alive. The tears weren't spilling yet though she could feel the emotions rising up her throat.
"Oh god, I missed you," she mumbled into his neck, feeling him pick her up. Never taking his arm from around her waist or his lips from her shoulder as he carried her back to her bags. Setting her down just as she came back to her senses. Imagining what they must have looked like, she stepped back. Just enough to take in his appearance but still feel too far away for him. Tucking her back into his side, Eli kissed her head.
"I missed you too, love," he mumbled, taking her bag without question and guiding her outside.
The sun was already devastating for eight in the morning. Shielding his eyes, he tried making out the signs, the car he rented already waiting on the parking lot. Picking up the keys and making their way over, neither had to say anything for it to feel normal. It was almost like they were never separated.
The air was flowing through her hair as he drove. Running her hands through the strands to keep knots from forming. It felt easy. Life felt easier once he was back by her side, once she didn't have to worry whether he slept enough or drank enough or still fell in love with her on the daily. She had felt it fade before. The longing for him, the aching of her heart when he didn't call for a few days. But it never disappeared; not when he still came to her in her dreams and stayed throughout the morning until she opened her eyes.
But now—with the sun shining down on her, forming shadows of her movement—he was there with her and she never wanted it to be another way.
The waves could be heard from their terrace. Opening the big glass door, she stepped out into a world that felt more like a dream than reality. Watching palm trees bent over her head and offer her a shadow to rest under. The sky was as blue as the water, the reflection making the two bleed together in perfection. No spec of colour made her able to tell where one started and the other one ended.
Eli stood by the door, leaning against the wooden frame as he watched her take it in. It was what she had talked about for weeks already. A place where they had to be no one but themselves and slowly, one by one, he dreamed of the same dream. An island somewhere where no one knew their names. A house they had no pictures of their past framed in. No shadows lingering in the corners of their rooms.
The sky was bleeding into the mountains as they went out of the house again. The sheets twisted and half hanging from the mattress. Shirts and bottoms and dresses laying on the floor that never looked right until she found something that made him stare in wonder.
With their hands intertwined, her cheek pressed against his shoulder, they walked down streets whose name they weren't aware of. He talked about the tour while she cut in every now and then with anecdotes from her own life that he'd missed. Catching up on time they could never re-imagine. It was done and they had no chance of pulling the other into a memory they would never be part of.
And as much as it hurt, it also gave them something. A sense of what their time together meant for the long run. She had toned her hair into a colour that he would only ever see through a camera lens. He had grown a beard as much as he could before she forced him to shave it off even when she never could feel it in real life, she already knew that it would be horrible to kiss him with it.
"I don't mean to be dramatic," he started, knocking his hip against hers as they went down a steep hill. Laughing when she slightly stumbled to the side but quickly pulling her back. "Paris with you would've been nice. The crowd was amazing and the city's beautiful."
"We've been there twice already," she reminded him, knitting her eyebrows together in confusion, trying to suppress the laugh that threatened to spill from her lips at the tone he said it with. The frown on his face a clear hint of evidence for his disappointment.
"Yeah but without you it feels different. Less like the city of love," he shrugged, tightening his hold on her hand.
"You literally say that about every city I don't visit with you."
"Only this time it fits."
The table reserved for two had been waiting for them since two weeks before, cutlery neatly decking the embroidered cotton cloths. The glistening sliver metal reflecting the rich lights hanging over them. Hands intertwined, menus exchanged and tastes specified, she could only see what she's been missing out on for the past few months. The low giggle and shy shake of his head whenever a comments of hers made him blush and he tried hiding it, regardless of how many times she's already seen it happen. The slow brush of his finger over her knuckles when he could feel the pressure of the setting coming down on her. The way he didn't wait for the waiter to turn to her before ordering her food too.
The wine made them feel immortal in a world filled with foolish mundane creatures.
"I don't think Paris would've been better than this," she confessed, the meal almost halfway done. The heat from outside dying down, making her shoulders relax at the new friction of clarity that occupied her mind and body. Twirling the fork in her fingers, musing the what if's and comparing them to what is.
"Really?" Eli asked surprised, dabbing the edges of his mouth with the napkin to give her his full attention without feeling disrespectful. "How come?"
"I mean, Paris is nice, don't get me wrong. But all we do there, we can do here as well but with a sense of quiet that I never really got to taste in a city as big as it is." Shrugging, going back to her food, her foot knocking against his by accident but staying put close to his ankle on purpose. "I don't need all the lights and big names above stores or on hotel buildings. I just want you."
Falling into the quiet of the night, the distant chatter of busy streets fading further the longer they stumbled down alley ways together, cheap wine buzzing through their systems.
"Let's go to the beach," Eli said absentmindedly, taking their intertwined hands and lifting them over her head so his arm could wrap itself around her waist. Pulling her closer, making them stumble and almost fall with laughter.
"What do you want at the beach it's…" Trailing off with her eyes focused on the moon, she tried figuring out the time based on where it was standing above them. "Close to midnight."
The guess was vague, it wasn't even correct, but in their state of minds, neither could care about the time around. It was whatever they wanted it to be.
"Don't know," he said, passing by the place they stayed in and following the best route they figured out to go to the beach. "Don't care." Arriving at the border where concrete turns into sand and soon sand will become water, he kicks off his own shoes before bending down and helping her get rid of her shoes as well. Looking up, eyes half lidded through his lashes and low hanging lids. Blinking up as if he couldn't believe she was real. "Do you?"
Leaving her shoes disregarded by his feet, the footprints in the sand are the only hint at her existence when he comes back to his senses.
Taking her belongings with him, making sure sand doesn't stick to any corner, he follows her. Watching her silhouette as it became bigger and bigger in his vision, the moonlight falling on the sea in front of her. Contrasting her to the rest of the world. Making her easy to find.
Walking closer, letting their shoes fall and tangle up together, he could hear her voice croaking out of her lungs as she spotted his feet next to hers. The water washing away any second thoughts.
"I don't mind that we spent time apart every once in a while," she confessed, hugging herself in an attempt to make her words sound less harsh now that she spoke them out loud. "I like coming back to you or you coming back to me, knowing that nothing has changed instead of always being together and not noticing that things have changed. I like being able to want you and miss you and think of you without you being there or having the choice to see you in a matter of five minutes because what if I don't make that choice anymore at some point?"
Turning to him, he was already looking at her. Eyes drained on the emotions beyond her face. The way her fingers itched and cramped to touch him. The way her lips slightly parted when she wanted to say more but knew she shouldn't. The way her arms tightened their hold around herself subconsciously.
"I don't want to sound mean," she added.
"You aren't."
"I only thing that distance can also mean growth and consolidation for two people."
Taking her hands from around her body and bringing them up to her lips, he mumbled his next words into her knuckles. Making sure that she can feel his honesty through her bones through to her heart. "I'm not mad at you for thinking this way. It makes sense."
Intertwining their hands, resting them against the side of his face. "I know how you're feeling because I feel the same. All the hectic and longing and short term miseries feel worth it because I know that I'll get to hold and love you at the end of it all. When life becomes too real, too sharp, you're always there to keep my head over-water."
Pulling her into his chest, his lips resting on the crown of her head, neither tried saying something that wasn't worth mentioning. They didn't need words for what they already knew by a simple touch and look in the eye.
"Lets go back," he offered, moving away just enough to look at her. Cradling her face in hopes of getting her smile back on his face.
Shaking her head gently, she held him back from turning away, saying, "Lets stay for a bit longer."
Settling into the space before the coast, watching the waves hit the shore as if they were their unsaid words, holding each other as if they were slowly melting together.
Summary: Soft moments of you and Elijah on a short summer break away…
Warnings: Suggestiveness but other than that just fluff!!
A/N: I’m so busy at the moment so here’s something short and sweet that’s just been sitting in my drafts while I’m trying to catch up with requests!!
The cicadas hummed lazily in the olive trees, the golden haze of the late afternoon settling over the hillside like a warm blanket.
You leaned against the balcony railing, a cold glass of rosé in your hand, the breeze lifting the hem of your linen shirt. Somewhere below, the sea glittered like broken glass, blue and endless.
“The longer you stare at the ocean doesn’t mean it’s going to talk back to you,” Elijah said, his voice rough from sleep and softened by the way it always got around you.
You smiled but didn’t turn. “Maybe I’m waiting for it to say something interesting.”
He stepped up behind you, arms sliding around your waist without asking, without hesitation. His skin was warm from the sun, and he still smelled faintly of citrus and the salt water you’d swum in earlier.
“You know,” he murmured into your hair, “we didn’t come all the way here for you to flirt with the Mediterranean.”
You laughed, leaning into him and his touch. “Are you jealous of the sea, Hewson?”
He tilted his head, brushing a kiss just below your ear. “I’m jealous of anything that gets your attention longer than I do.”
Your heart flipped, like it always did when he said things like that—so direct, so low, like it was meant only for you and no one else would understand.
His fingers slipped beneath your shirt, finding bare skin, the cool contrast of his rings making you shiver.
“Elijah,” you breathed, a warning and a plea.
“Hmm?”
“We’re supposed to be getting ready for dinner.”
He kissed your shoulder. “Dinner can wait. The sun’s about to set. And you, standing here like this…” He pulled back just enough to look at you. “You’re not making it easy.”
You turned finally, letting your hand rest on his chest, where his heartbeat pulsed steady and real. He looked impossibly golden, curls messy from the hammock he fell asleep on, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips.
“I like it here,” you said softly. “With you. Quiet like this.”
He reach up, brushing your bottom lip with his thumb softly. “Yeah?” His voice dropped. “Then let’s stay like this a little longer.”
And as he leaned in—slow, deliberate—you forgot about the dinner reservations, the time, the sea. All that mattered was the feel of his mouth on yours, the sun slipping low behind the hills, and the promise of a night that belonged only to the two of you.
————————————
The sun had finally dipped below the horizon, brushing the sky with a purple hew almost as the heat of the day still clung to the stone walls of the villa.
Inside, tangled in linen sheets and each other, skin to skin, you lay with Elijah, your limbs barely distinguishable from his.
The dinner reservation had long since passed.
His hand trailed lazy circles on your lower back, the salt of your sweat still cooling on your skin. His chest rose and fell beneath your cheek, his breath steady now, but slower—like he never wanted to move again.
“You know we missed that Michelin star place for this,” you teased, nudging his thigh with your knee playfully, voice half-melted in the warmth between you.
Elijah’s chuckle vibrated under your ear. “Best decision I’ve made so far on this trip.”
You tilted your head up, brushing your lips against the edge of his jaw. He turned to meet your gaze, his eyes soft, unreadable, pupils wide in the dimming light. The breeze from the open balcony stirred the curtains like a slow dance.
“I could stay like this forever,” he murmured, fingertips brushing your collarbone. “Just us. Nowhere to be.”
You smiled, pressing your forehead to his. “You say that, but you’ve got a world tour staring back up in, what? Two months?”
“Then let’s run off before then. Disappear into the countryside. Start a vineyard, raise goats.”
“Raise goats?” You laughed.
“Fine. Kids, then. If you insist.”
You stilled for a moment. His tone had shifted—still light, but not joking. He looked at you like he meant it.
“Eli, baby…”
“I’m serious,” he said quickly. “Maybe not goats. But… someday. I can see it.”
You reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his. “You and me. Kids. A home.”
He nodded. “Maybe not here. Back home, in Dublin, probably by the sea. I know that’s what you really want. You’d make a beautiful mam, you know.”
Your throat tightened, unexpected and sweet. He kissed your temple.
“You ever think about it?” He asked. “What it’d be like? Having kids? Marrying me?”
You smiled against his skin. “All the time.”
“Yeah?”
You shifted so you were looking at him full on, not caring that the linen sheet was no longer covering your top half, your hand still in his. “Yeah. You’re the only person I can imagine sharing forever with.”
The breeze blew through again, warm and lazy, smelling like sex and sea salt. The room, the whole world, seemed to exhale around you.
He leaned in slowly, kissing you with the kind of depth that said more than words ever could.
And outside, the stars began to blink into the sky—silent witnesses to a future quietly unfolding.
I'm a sucker for slow burn, "When Harry Met Sally," "Before Trilogy" type of stories.
Can you write one about Eli? Maybe they meet once then meet again years later
Muse
Eli Hewson x fem!ex!reader
Summary: After being separated for some time, the world notices that she was his greatest muse and so does he
Warnings: kind of inspired by people wanting Taylor to get back with Joe because she wrote better songs about him, made this sadder than it has to be, fluff, making out, 16+ only
Wordcount: 4k
Masterlist, Inhaler Masterlist
It was never meant to be. They were never meant to be more than what they were until they weren't.
She was a lost memory in his songs and she was the one they deemed responsible for the good coming to an end. A shadow in the lights he stood under. Always lingering, never calling out for attention but the people still saw her.
When he performed, they could see the smile she used to put on his face and later the tears she was responsible for. In his songs they could hear the words he started using because of her. The poetry that came from looking at her.
Being with her was like living in a dream. Surrounded by fairy lights and waterfalls of love until you surrender and it strives into tranquility. The simplicity of falling only hitting him hard once he landed. Watching her walk away with broken bones and a crooked smile at the memory of her.
It wasn't his intention of falling back into her but the words were as sharp as daggers once the people noticed her absence. Missing her just as much as he did. Not just when he was caught up in the streets in his own but rather when he shared bits and pieces of his life through his art. What once were sonnets of admiration transformed into a 3rd grade rhyming lesson.
"You know, Eli, being a Rock star" - he had to laugh at the reference - "you've had an endless amount of muses but would you say there was one that inspired you the most?"
Everyone knew the answer. He did, the interviewer did. It was obvious from the way he used to write about her.
"I mean, I don't think you can compare something like that. Everyone has something special that is worth writing about," he shrugged like he hadn't had someone waiting home for him. Someone he just dedicated a whole album to. "It's never just about the person but rather the time you find yourself in. And with this album I think I've been having a really good time. Not just writing but personally as well."
But his eyes didn't hold the same fondness they once held for her. Talking about someone new didn't feel as familiar and comfortable as when talking about her.
Scratching his face, thinking about his next words, his mind drifted off. Barely catching the joke the woman opposite of him made, laughing like he understood her punchline. It was trained, prepared. Opting for a way of not showing his emotions rather than letting them breath through his facial expressions made him feel better in the short term of his loneliness. Though throughout the long run of her absence with the miles getting heavier, so did his heart. Weighting him down, making him stumble and fall and bruise.
He carried her home, carrying the memory of her inside his apartment as if she weighted nothing when truly even the thought of her made him want to slouch. The floorboards creaking as he opened the door, her memory sat in front of his eyes. His tunnel vision angled towards her, only seeing her. The one who got away. The one he still dreams about in secret.
"Do you think my writing's gotten worse?" Eli asked first thing in the morning when standing in the middle of the studio.
Josh picked up his guitar, scrunching his eyebrows together in confusion.
"I don't think it's ever been bad," his friend answered, trying to be as kind as he possibly could in a strange time like this.
"Thanks, but- Would you say it was better when-" Cutting himself off, biting his tongue, he was well aware that the next words could only be there to hurt. "Would you say she was a better muse than who I have now?"
Sighing, Josh sat down on the couch in the corner of the control booth. Shoulders slouching when he knew he had to tell him the truth. "I think she pushed you more. Not just creatively but also personally. Making you try new things and learn new stuff. It's different now and you have to adjust to that change in life but that doesn't make your writing bad. It's still you who's writing."
It's still him who's writing, so why did the people not see it the same way?
"Thanks, man." Nodding his head, Eli settled back into the rhythm of practice.
The tour coming nearer the longer he wallowed in his sorrow like a starving bird. Phantoms already catching sight of it, laughing every time he woke and didn't rise from beneath the sheets that still faintly smelled like her.
Josh's words were supposed to be helping though they only made it worse. Adjusting to change was never something he was fond of. Especially not when it came to her. Touring took the aspect of familiarity away from him but it was one he was used to. The constant hectic, stress and no time for settlement. It was something he grew to love.
Standing in front of the cafe she used to take him in her hometown, the rise in his blood pressure felt like nothing he'd ever experience before. Static noise rising up his ears, blocking any natural sound from bringing him back down to earth. The notebook in his hands still empty since a few months, nothing worth writing about stumbling across his way. No night sky was bright enough to be put into the spotlight of his vision. The stars seemed to die under his gaze. The moon covered itself with clouds to be hidden from his mind.
Inside, the same familiarity embraced him. People he'd seen a dozen times before still standing behind the counter, taking orders to make a living and help others survive. Her face lingering in every window reflection but she was nowhere in sight.
Settling in the booth she used to drag him to, the glass cold against his pounding head as he leaned into the gentle pattern of rain outside. Watching tears of the sky roll down the window just like he had watched her face covered in her sadness that he caused. Tapping his pen against the empty pages.
The people were gentle, cautious to approach him but never scared. They knew the story, what went wrong and what should've never happened in the first place.
'It was right for the time but not everything is right forever,' he used to explain when other people asked. The same sentence, no other structure within his words as he repeated them a hundred times. Laughing in between his words when a fan looked as sad about it as he felt. Whispering it like a prayer that would protect him late at night when he was laying alone. Thinking - dreaming of her.
"Hey." A shadow built over him, a familiar outline lingering over the wooden table. Her fingers tapping against the surface. Standing tall, smiling awkwardly when he looked up at her figure. Eyes dragging over her body to find a change in how she dressed or acted or smiled but there was nothing left of what he once knew. Her smile was still the same as when he last saw her. Shy and unsure whether she was allowed to be as happy as she was. Her eyes grew more fierce, her clothes changing into something more mature.
Closing the notebook she had gifted him on their last Christmas, pen sitting atop of it.
Standing up, they looked at each other for a silent minute. Communicating without a language others would be able to understand before she reached up and embraced him. Her fingernails digging into the fabric of his sweater as she breathed in what she once used to feel around her every day.
"Hey," he mumbled back, letting her sit down before sitting down himself. His fingers anxiously tapping as he watched her like a ghost watched a shadow. They were the same yet so different. Their indifference now gone and replaced by new experiences and ideals they hadn't seen before.
"Eli," his name tasted bittersweet on her tongue as she addressed him for the first time in two years. Sighing at the heavy tension that laid over the table and the eyes she could feel on them without having to look up from her lap. "What is this supposed to be here? I mean why are you asking me to meet up out of the blue when we haven't spoken for years. You know how much people like to talk around here."
Not just in the small town they found themselves in like all those years ago. His whole life was something people thought was worth documenting. Every little slip up, every little mistake. It was all in the paper by the next morning. She was sure it would happen with this as well. The headlines already writing themselves in her mind as her gaze drifted out the window. People that had no idea where they even were wondering whether they were back together or had never broken up.
It was what made her step back from him in the first place.
The constant lies and assumptions. The following and asking questions in public spaces. The loudness of it all. But she hadn't told him that, not when she couldn't bring it over her to tell him the truth and not sound proud of him in the process. Aware that he was willing to do whatever it took to make her comfortable she ripped the bandage off even when there was no wound beneath it.
"Just wanted to see how you're doing," he shrugged, the rings on his fingers still being the same ones she bought for him at a flea market some years prior. Twisting and turning the metal as he tried to keep his voice steady and his thoughts structured. Though every string of ideas as to what he could say was ripped once he was her walking in. "It's been some time since I last heard of you. Your mum stopped calling."
"I told her to," she confessed, biting her lip when the words tumbled out too quick.
Eli nodded, head hanging low when he felt like he had overstepped a line. One he wasn't aware of before but one he threatened to exist.
"She still loves you - she also loves the new album - but we aren't together anymore. And things change, that's life."
"It's change that I've never wanted," he mumbled, tone heavier. His words sharper.
"But I did. I needed it."
"Why? What made you change your mind on being with me?"
"It got too loud," she said and he finally looked up at her. Brown eyes piercing through her lifeless ones. The honesty treating through. "Everything that was so normal to you was never anything I was able to get used to. And I don't want you to think that I fell out of love because that was never the reason, we just weren't meant to be. Our world's are too different to exist in the same universe."
"I would've followed you into the quiet if that was what you wanted. If only I knew I would've made sure that no one ever says another word to us."
"I know. But I don't want you to change anything in your life just so that it can be compatible to mine. That's not the way love should work."
"But I don't work without you. I have nothing if I don't have you. No words, no memories, no emotions. The colours are gone from my vision and everything is just black and white. The rain is falling all the time and I feel like I'm drowning in it while my body is dehydrated and perishing." His hands were outstretched over the table, inches away from her own, when he stopped talking. Finally breathing again. "I need you."
"You don't need me, Eli. You need passion, happiness. However you might find it, I hope you do. I very dearly hope you find something to hold on to." The chair scraped across the marble floor tiles as she pushed it back creating a grating sound that rang through his ears. Her foot steps echoing even when she was out the door, arms wrapped around herself while she disappeared back into her own life.
Watching her walk away, his mind started working. Opening his notebook and scribbling each thought into it.
The rest was a stream of conscious ignorance. Falling into the role he created for himself, the rock star that couldn't be bothered with anything outside the music. They played the new songs though they felt like nothing and by he third show they abandoned half of them. Only keeping those that felt like they could deafen the crowd by how loud it sang them.
"Alright, this is a new one, hope that's alright for you," he announced, tuning his guitar while he could feel her ghost lingering over the strings. He couldn't hear the crowd when they exploded with excitement, only concentrating on the words he had to get out.
The urge overtaking him that this was important for him, something he hadn't felt as intense since she was gone from his mind.
What is done is done and two days later when he got the text: "Heard the new song. Sounds like you know what you want to say," it didn't feel as threatening as it would've a few months prior.
Summer passed them by in a rush and by autumn Eli found himself in the BBC Radio 1 studio for a special announcement. His hands were sweating as he stood by the desk, headphones over his ears. Fan messages ringing through his head as he awaited the moment. The one no one anticipated.
"Tell me about the new single," Jack said, enthusiastically moving his hands as he spoke. "When did you record it? I mean, you were on tour most of the year."
"Yeah, we got into the studio between our US Tour end of last year and then this tour that started in February as well as between the EU leg of the tour and Asia. It was quite stressful but having this familiarity of recording made touring easier I'd say. As well as more exhausting but I think it paid out."
"That's quite a lot of studio sessions for one single."
Laughing, he rubbed the back of his neck, this was it. "Well, it's not just a single. We did an EP actually. It'll be out on the 14th of November."
"An EP? That's some huge news."
"Yeah, it just felt right to get it out there, you know?"
Ten minutes before midnight, his nerves went wrecked. Doubts entangling themselves with his decisions as the clock ticked by. Taunting him when it slowed to a stop one minute before midnight. Refreshing his Apple Music page to see whether it was true or if he'd dreamed it all. But with a second passing between his finger pulling the page down to reload and it refreshing, it was there. The EP neatly laid out in front of him, the cover looking as if it didn't care whether it would be played or not. It was simply existing. Much to his despair.
Tossing the device into the corner of his room, turning off the lights and pulling his blanket up to his chin, he felt like a little kid waking from a bad dream. His heart pounding, his mind wrecked. Eyes wide open as they stared into the dark. Her face still in front of him. Reaching out but finding nothing he had to remind himself what the songs were about that he now sung on tour.
By morning his head felt lighter though his heart was still heaving him down. The ringing of the door bell waking him up too early for him to be surprised about it. Cursing and groaning while he trotted over, the last thing he expected now stood in front of his door.
Picking up the bouquet and closing the door, he searched for a card in between the colours and greens. Crisp white paper building a stark contrast to otherwise soft mix of yellows and light purple. His name signed with a hand writing he would recognize anywhere.
'Listened to the new EP. I told you, you'd find something to write about.'
Her name signed beneath it. A small heart drawn next to it.
Searching for his phone in the mess he'd made the past week, his thumb hovered over the call button while her name flashed by in front of his eyes. Screwing them shut he thought of the worst outcome possible. Though nothing seemed worse than what he found himself in at the moment.
He'd rather be nothing at all than be something unspoken.
It didn't take long for her to answer, leaving no time for the ringing noise to mock him while he waited. Praying she'd pick up. And when she did, he was left speechless. Surprised, confused.
"Hey," she said first, no hint of regret or shame in her tone. "I get this as, you got the flowers."
"I- Yes, I did. They're nice," he spoke, eyes drifting back to where they were now on full display for everyone to see. Nicely fitted into a vase she got him after scolding him for not having any. "But why?"
"As I said, I heard the new album. It's good."
"It's not really an album. Too short for that."
"But it's something. Something artistic and worth anyone's time."
"I wouldn't say-"
She cut him off before he could degrade himself and his work. A habit she was all too familiar with.
"Don't," she said firmly. Breathing out a laugh as she thought back to all the times she had to stop him from doing the same thing until he had learned and just accepted the compliment. "It's good, it's really good."
"Thank you."
The silence stretched between them while neither felt the momentum to hang up. Lingering in the aftermath of their actions, he rubbed his hand over his face. Knowing he'd probably regret his next words but shooting his shot nevertheless.
"We're going out for a few drinks tonight, just the band and some other friends. Nothing major. You wanna come too?"
The flowers were an indication of ceasefire between their front lines but she didn't expect him to be the first one to indicate surrender.
"I'll stop by," she confirmed before hanging up.
Her words echoing in his mind until he was sat in the small pub, his phone burning in his pocket after he sent her their location and she left it on read. No further confirmation or denying. His knee bouncing as he tried listening on to the conversation though his eyes always strayed off into the direction of the door. Breath hitching when the door opened, composure falling when it wasn't her who walked in.
He'd almost given up when he finally recognized the outline and the sound of her shoes treating through every other sound. Standing up as if out of habit as he greeted her, the others falling silent at the sight of her. Eli'd told them but no one actually believed that she'd show up.
Offering the place next to his the nervousness left his body. Starting to interact with the others, falling into the ease they were used to from him when she was by his side. It felt like back then. The memories coming back.
The later the hour got, the more everyone drank. Bobby could barely keep his voice from wavering when he spoke across the table. Laughing before he could even start comprehending his words. "I don't know what yer doing with him but I swear, he can't write anything unless it's about you. It's unbelievable."
"That's not true," Eli tried keeping his face from growing red under her gaze and laugh. Hiding his own smile behind his glass while shaking his head in denial that he knew was useless.
The conversation drifted off, the others leaving the space. Though they stayed in their orbit. Glancing at the other, quickly looking away when they were already looking. It felt like teenage love. That exciting yet innocent kind that could not be burst by even the cruelest kind of mischief that the world had prepared for them.
The group parted ways an hour later, hugging and saying their goodbyes outside the pub. Most walking in the same direction though she fell into step with the one guy she had so desperately tried to avoid the last few months.
Eli had offered to walk her home when he held her jacket out so she could put it on. Leaning down so that his lips brushed her ear while he whispered the sweet words.
Both their hands stuffed in their pockets while they made their way down the street.
"Bobby might be talking shit most of the time but he wasn't lying back then." He wasn't looking at her though she knew that he was talking to her. She would know it even if she was blind and they were stood in the middle of a crowd.
His voice got softer, quieter in understanding of her mind. She listened and he knew that he didn't had to scream for that to happen.
"I figured that much. The lyrics and the way you wrote. It's different to when it wasn't about me." She felt stupid for saying it. The narcissistic tone filtering her words in her mind. "Sorry, that sounds so egoistic. But there's a certain edge when you write about stuff that I've lived through too. It's almost like you're talking to me."
She whispered the last words. Watching her shoes when she stopped under the light of her front door. His shoes were close to hers, the fronts almost touching. His breath was visible when he exhaled, the cold air still feeling warm when it hit her face.
Looking up, head angled just right to see his lashes hitting his skin.
"You wanna come in? Have a tea, wine. Even though I don't think alcohol is the right thing at the moment."
"How come?"
"If I drink more I might do things that I could regret sooner or later. I don't know if I'm ready for that again."
His fingers brushed her cheek, muscles tensing under his touch. The intensity of his gaze and the weight of his smirk when he saw right through her riddle making her gulp.
"I don't want to hurt you ever again. I'll do everything to keep you mine if you want to be that."
The lock clicked when the door opened. Pushing it further, she walked in, hand lingering on the door edge for as long as she could hold it open. Making her way up the stairs, not looking back though she could hear his footsteps echoing before the door fell shut again. Fast steps approaching her as she searched for the key she needed.
His arms wrapped around her waist, face nuzzled in her neck. Stopping her hands from moving, she let her head fall back against his shoulder. Sighing in contempt when his lips brushed over her neck. Teeth grazing her skin.
Snapping back into reality when another door rattled somewhere in the building, she pushed the key in the lock. Turning it and stumbling inside. Slamming the door shut, turning in his arms as she pushed him against the back of it. Hands tangled up in his hair, tucking at his curls.
"Missed you, this. Feeling you," he mumbled, his fingers running up and down her waist. Hands pushing her shirt up as they were feeling the skin he knew like his own underneath it.
She chuckled against his lips, telling him to shut up before pulling him further into the space he didn't know yet.
