meghan trainor oneshots // m.t

1.8 • FireFly

Note : Flashbacks in italics.

5 months. 5 months of nobody knowing. Not a soul. Not anyone in my family, not anyone in his. 5 months of just us. Pure us. How we managed it? No idea. But we did it. 5 whole months. We were announcing it tonight, one of Charlie's shows. The word will spread like wildfire. One spark arises and suddenly it's a full flame, engulfing anything and everything in it's path.

Paparazzi. Fans. Interviews. Repeat.

I can't quite believe that me and Charlie Puth got together in the first place. It took us long enough, 18 months of us being friends, both in love with the other, neither courageous enough to admit it. How cliche. But, we did it. Well, he did it. And damn, did he do it well :

I arrived home. An empty house. Totally empty. Or so I thought. Charlie was in the kitchen, ready to scare the shit out of me apparently. He didn't mean to, it just happened like that. I set down my shades and my coat, scurried upstairs to change into a zebra onesie. Once I did that, I realized how hungry i was. Too hungry. With this newly discovered fact fresh in my mind I thought, 'Hey, I have that leftover Chinese takeout in the fridge'. Which, granted, would've been a great idea, had Charlie Puth not been waiting for me in the kitchen. Which, if you're slow, he was.

Chinese takeout still clear in mind I lugged myself downstairs, ready to just chill in my room, alone. Oh, the luxury life of a pop star!

I made my way into the open plan living/kitchen area and screamed when I saw a man, hunched over my breakfast bar. He jolted upwards quickly. "Hmm, wha? What's going on?!"

"Charlie!" I said relieved I knew him. "You scared me!"

"Sorry." He muttered and avoided eye-contact. He didn't scare me to the point I was angry at him, just worried that my heart was beating that fast it may stop.

"Hey," I spoke, placing a comforting arm on his shoulder, "It's fine. You just frightened me, that's all. I'm not mad Char Char."

"Oh." He managed and chuckled. At this point, hand still over my heart, protecting it somehow, I don't know, I burst out laughing. And Charlie joined, and we stood there, just laughing for a good 30 minutes. We must have looked mentally insane.

When we finally stopped laughing, some half hour later, we were left gasping for breath, the lack of oxygen catching up with us only now. "I haven't laughed like that in..." Charlie trailed off and began to think, "Too long." He said eventually.

"I second that." I grinned, "Wine?" I offered.

"Shots?" He smirked mischievously.

"Bar?"

"I think we're dropping verbs." Charlie said laughing.

"Yeah, so we're going to a bar and drinking shots and getting pissed out of our minds?" I said finally, doubtful. Thankfully, Charlie saw sense.

"You know what? I think wine's good."

"White or red?" I smirked.

"Whatever." He shrugged. He seemed anxious. Why? I couldn't tell you, not in that moment. But if you'd of asked me two minutes later, I would have a precise answer as to why. I opened up the cupboard I kept the wine glasses in, and Charlie's breath hitched. I glanced over at him suspiciously and saw he was holding his breath. How strange. I turned my head and there, written across four wine glasses, in black, white, and sparkly-silver gel, was 'BE - MY - GIRLFRIEND - ?'. Now, my breath hitched. Tears welled in my eyes and I turned to Charlie, my best-friend, and hugged him, soaking his flannel shirt with tears.

"I'm s-sorry." I mumbled shamefully, weird, I don't normally cry...

"No, I'm sorry." He countered, smiling sadly at me. I realized why he was apologizing...