meghan trainor oneshots // m.t

5.2 • Actions Speak Louder Than Words

She wrapped her arms around herself and sat on the cold, hard floor. Another night alone. Another night without him. She couldn't sleep, every time she closed her eyes he was there, a crystal clear picture of him indented into her memory. Forever there, to haunt her, taunt her because she couldn't have him. His messy hair and devilish grin as he stepped closer to her in nothing but underwear. Forever replaying like a broken record. Over and over and over again. It hurt her, emotionally. She hadn't left the house in months, not properly. To get basic things like milk from the shop but not much more. She remembers the day they met, first such a blessing but now such a curse. He'd left her scarred and her heart throbbing painfully in her chest. Alone again, nothing but the numbing effects of alcohol to keep her living, occasionally laughing dryly at the whole thing. Gut-twistingly painful chuckles. Eventually though, she passed out from pure exhaustion. Sleep engulfing her in its arms of terrifying yet calming blackness.

He sat on the stone floor, ignoring the chills it sent running through his bloodstream. He never cried, yet here he was, body shaking with sobs and uncontrollable droplets of salty water flooding his cheeks. He missed her, but he'd fucked it up. He knew that, it hurt him knowing it was his fault. He'd lost his Miss Perfect because he was an idiot. One drink with a friend, jealousy consumed him and he screamed in her face, telling her he never wanted to see her again, and she listened. She moved house, changed her number and he was certain if she wasn't famous she would've changed her name. Completely untraceable. Yet there she was, interviews, award shows... you name it. To anyone else it was all normal, it was all okay. But not to him, he saw the pain that flashed in her eyes every so often and he saw the stiffness in her smiles, the fact that it never quite reached her eyes anymore. She was hurting too. That was some sort of comfort for him, that she couldn't forget. It meant they really had something.

He pulled himself up and dragged his heavy legs over to the window. He sat on the large windowsill in his New York apartment. Himself and Meghan had bought apartments so close you could look through the window to the other. A faint smile graced his features as he remembered the phone calls that took place here, looking over at each other, the sun shining, or the moon casting a blanket of silver over the 24 hour city, they called each other and watched each others faces as they spoke. There had been so many they'd both lost count. He hadn't heard her speak his name in months, he longed for it. Picking up his phone and opening twitter, he eyed that tweet from so many months ago.

I love it when you say Charlie.

He still did. Whenever she said Charlie it was music to his ears, the most beautiful sound. No longer able to take it, he dialed the number he knew by heart. He regretted it as soon as it begun connecting, but he was frozen. She answered after four rings. "Hello?" Came her raspy morning voice, only now did he remember it was 5am. He'd been up all night because every time he closed his eyes an image of her formed, crystal-clear. She was always happy, when they were together. Always smiling, except one of those nights when the paparazzi hounded her or her insecurities flared up, then he would hold her as she cried and she'd smile up at him again the next morning.

"Hey." He replied, biting his bottom lip as he waited anxiously for a response. For several moments there was no sound, only silence. Not even her light, almost feather-like breaths flooded through the phone. Eventually an almost inaudible, shaking breath escaped her. A small gasp filled the air as silence then ensued again.

"Are you at the window?" She whispered to him, practically silently and he nodded, the fact that he wasn't in her sight slipped from his mind because her voice had left him unable to speak, or move, or think. Her voice was so melodic, like music spinning off her tongue unintentionally. His tongue felt like it was too heavy to lift, weighted to the bottom of her mouth. There was rain, tumbling down like tears from the sky while the moon cast a slight liquid silver glow over the majestic city. Shock consumed him when he saw her, he was certain she'd sold the apartment but evidently not. Her angelic face appeared next as she stepped into his view. There she was, in nothing but one of his old t-shirts that fell to mid-thigh, her reddy-brown, slightly long hair bobbing a little below her shoulders. Her face wasn't painted with makeup, making her glow even more, making her seem even more pure. He loved it. "Charlie." She mumbled into the phone as she settled down on the windowsill herself, propping a pillow at her back. He watched her lips intently as they moved to say his name again, those perfect pink lips that always tasted of cherry chap stick. "Charlie, I missed you."

He huffed a little, unsure of what to say. Unsure if he'll be able to say it. "Oh god, I missed you too baby girl." His breath was as light as a single grain of salt, yet still crammed with raw emotion. A very light smile broke out on her features, she closed her eyes for a single moment. They sat for a while, staring at each other, with the quiet, calming pitter-patter of rain tapping at the glass. "I still love you." He all but sobbed down the line and she smiled again, a little broader, a little sadder. Again, they allowed it all to lie in silence, neither of them speaking or hanging up the phone. Just sitting paralyzed in a comfortable silence.

"What are we doing?" She chuckled dryly. In all honestly, not one of the two of them had any particular clue what was happening. Everything was moving so slowly, even the tires on the vehicles that usually sped by the window panes were going at no more than 10 miles an hour. 

"I'm not sure." He responded truthfully.

"Come over." She whispered, so insanely quiet he wasn't sure he'd heard right. "Come over." She repeated. "Please." He didn't think twice about it after that. His breath caught in his throat while his brain kicked quickly into overdrive. Minutes later and his knuckles were hitting her white oak door, numbered 228. It swung open and she was stood, widened eyes, lips parted slightly as though she wasn't expecting him. "Charles Otto."

"Meghan Elizabeth." He sighed contentedly, finally happy to see her face, for her to say his name to him. He grinned at her, the first genuine grin that painted his lips. In her eyes there was this look of lust that dropped from his toes to his sexily disheveled hair. She leaned all of her weight on her tip-toes and placed her hands around his neck and pulled his lips to hers. Both of them had missed the familiar taste that flooded onto their taste buds. They'd missed each other because the thing with love is that it doesn't just change, or switch off. The lust coursing through their systems was enough to fuel the fire of passion that had been sparked by the longing for the other. She walked backwards, him forwards, kicking closed the door and moving towards the furnishings. Her feet reached the couch and she fell backwards onto it, him following suit and falling on top of her. The sound of her angelic giggle filled the room and he chuckled his deep, sexy chuckle in response. Both their eyes opened to meet each others, she had the kind of eyes he could lose himself in, and he had eyes that were windows to his soul, and right then his soul was screaming with unspoken love, love he wanted to show, not speak. As actions speak louder than words.

He pressed fervent kissed down her neck, sucking in all the places he knew she liked. She moaned at the touch of his soft lips against her skin, leaving a trail of sparks down her neck, fireworks in her stomach and an explosion of butterflies flitting about frantically in her stomach. How she'd missed this. In a matter of messy seconds both of them had managed to pull off the shirts that separated their skin. As soon as they could they reached the skin to skin contact they'd craved for months. After more hard, passionate kisses, moans and groans, sweaty skin, condoms and the perfect early A.M they collapsed in each others arms, both in a state of complete and utter unbeatable bliss. Both had missed the other, and they had both found each other again. "I'm never letting go of you again." He whispered into her hair. "Not ever."

A/N: Awe, I finally finished it :)
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Stay strong lovelies,
- Faye xx