Ashton:
He was seated in a kitchen showroom, spinning around on neon yellow chairs. You were began to look around in the empty refrigerator, ‘looking’ for food to ‘cook’. While you examined the shelves, the all-too-familiar clinking of metal against a granite tabletop. You looked behind you to see your boyfriend using a knife and a fork as makeshift drumsticks, drumming a song you couldn’t recognize.
You weren’t surprised by this, because he had this weird habit at home, whenever you were taking a bit longer than usual making dinner. You smiled, hearing the occasional ding of metal against a porcelain cup, the simple mug playing a cymbal. You picked up the bowl that had been sitting on the tabletop, and put it next to him. You picked up some tongs, and began to pretend to put salad on his plate. He looked up at you with puppy dog eyes- obviously salad wasn’t his favorite, but what could you do about it?
His arms circled around your waist, almost making you lose your balance, but you were pulled face-to-face with him, his eyes sparkling under the fluorescent lights above you.
"I love you, you know?" he whispered softly, a million-dollar smile tacked on to the end. Your cheeks flushed, as he brought you closer - if that was even possible - and pressed his kiss against yours, in a rare chaste kiss. Soft, but passionate; chaste, but still overwhelming in the most intimate way.
This area is now your favorite, for every time you went to cook a meal for you two, it would remind you of that moment. When he was away, the room itself reminded you of him, and you could feel his presence there, even though he was an ocean away, living his dream. Though you weren’t one for neon colors, you bought the yellow stools anyway. Just like that day, he always sat on the right stool, and you sat on the left, accordingly. Even when he was away, you still sat on the left. Breaking the routine just seemed so weird to you, so you still carried on as if he were there.
Calum:
Your hands were interlocked from the moment you stepped into the giant, chic, blue-and-yellow warehouse. You were looking for things to buy for your new apartment, as the old one you shared was feeling a bit small and run-down, and using some money that he’s earned from being on tour and some money that you’ve been saving from doing miscellaneous jobs, you’ve finally got enough to buy a bigger apartment with the most amazing view from the master bedroom. His hand slips out of yours as you two enter the mattress section. Oddly enough, there was practically no one around, not a soul in sight.
"Look at me, babe!" he calls to you, before jumping on a mattress. You follow his voice, looking for him in the sea of white mattresses. Feeling fingers grasp your waist, you’re being pulled backwards. You expect to be thrown upon a white mattress, but instead you’re whisked into his arms, his hand grabbing yours, swaying at a slow pace. The only thing you can hear was his soft breathing, the slow bass of his heart beat, and the Righteous Brothers’ ‘Unchained Melody’.
There was no one that particular section, making the moment more spontaneous and more intimate. You were never one for big crowds, so you got lost in the soft sounds and the feeling of his arms around you. He twirled you around and kissed your forehead, whispering sweet nothings only for you to hear. This went on for a while, until people started filing in, staring at the couple dancing in the middle of the mattress section at IKEA.
Now, a year later, you two had grown more in your relationship, and you were a year older. You had shared a lot of memories in that bed, and you two couldn’t argue when asked what room was your favorite. It was your bedroom. You shared many intimate moments, but your favorite pastime was slow dancing with dim lighting. No talking, just breathing, slow swaying, and closed eyes.
Luke:
Let’s get one thing straight: you had a lot of fears. Spiders, snakes, and heights were some of the more mundane fears that you had. Your biggest fear was being left alone. Whether it was being alone in your flat while your boyfriend was out, or if it was at the grocery store, and you seemed to have lost your companion to the candy aisle.
Your fears didn’t exclude IKEA. You and your boyfriend, Luke, were looking for more pieces of furniture for your flat, looking for colors to tie up some rooms, just to really settle in. You dragged him through different showrooms, going on about different bed sheets, and scrutinizing over every single detail of every single thread. You were looking at prices for a deep burgundy bed sheets, the color set against white pillows and the same deep color for throw pillows. You liked it, and it seemed to appeal to Luke, so when you turned around to ask him on his final opinion, he was nowhere to be found. You felt your heart pound against your chest, and your body begin to heat up.
You sat on the bed, knowing that he’d come find you sooner or later. Ten minutes passed after that, and you were on the verge of tears. Just then, Luke rounded the corner, holding something behind his back. His eyebrows were furrowed, until his eyes landed on you. You ran to him, wrapping your arms around his neck in an embrace.
"Where were you?" you asked, with anger and relief in your voice. He looked at you with apologetic eyes, and held out the package behind him. It wasn’t the deep burgundy sheets, but it was a deep gray with a little bit of lavender. You fell in love with it almost instantly, while it took Luke a little bit longer.
"It took me a while to like it, but I can imagine us cuddling, kissing, sleeping, dreaming-" You cut off his apology by pressing your lips against his, standing on your toes to get to his height. (Well, sort of.)
"You’re the best, Luke."
"My girl deserves the best," he said, and added softly, "and that’s why you have me." You later had a hard time putting on the sheets, because he had gotten the wrong size.
Michael:
When you told Michael that you wanted to go to IKEA, he just looked at you with eyes that said, ‘Really?’. Your only response was with a look you knew he couldn’t say no to. Though his deadpan expression said that he didn’t want to go, his eyes lit up when he saw how excited you became at the sight of different patterns and pillows. You took him around different showrooms, as per usual, and he’s sit down on whatever was available while he allowed you to go around.
There was one particular showroom, a very cozy living room, with accents of blue and beige, and wool blankets draped over the couch, making the atmosphere small and comfortable, something you and Michael enjoyed a lot. As he did with the other showrooms, he plopped himself down on the couch, settling in, preparing to entertain himself while you geeked-out about furniture and textiles. But instead of going around the room, you sat down next to him, cuddling into his side, and propped your feet on the coffee table in front of you.
"I like this one, what do you think?" you asked him, looking up at his smiling face.
"I like it. Not very punk-ish, though," he said, jokingly. "but I really like it. Honestly. Very, erm, homey."
"Homey? Really?" You looked up at him, on the verge of bursting into giggles. "And let’s be honest: it’s IKEA. Nothing’s punk-ish." You stood up to look at the prices, and you feel his hand swat your bum. You turn around to see Michael bracing himself, as you begin to chase him around the entire showroom, other people watching you with smiles on their faces. The couch now resides in your living room, the coffee table is covered in mugs and Xbox controllers.
