Luke Hemmings Imagines

Ghost Of You

Ghost Of You:
Here I am waking up 
Still can't sleep on your side
There's your coffee cup 
The lipstick stain fades with time
If I can dream long enough 
You'd tell me I'd be just fine
I'll be just fine

So I drown it out like I always do
Dancing through our house 
With the ghost of you
And I chase it down 

With a shot of truth
Dancing through our house 
With the ghost of you

Luke’s POV:

The sun comes through the blinds, making me groan as I roll over to get away from it.

My body gets on the cold side of the bed, my heart skipping a beat as I realize I’ve rolled over onto the other side of the bed. The side Y/N used to sleep on before she left me.

I let out a sigh before I sit up and rub my face with my hands, frustrated because I haven’t been able to sleep on her side of the bed since she’s been gone.

A whine comes from the foot of the bed, making me look down at Petunia before looking over at the time and cursing slightly. “Shit girl, I’m gonna be late to the studio again.”

I quickly jump up and slide some pants on before going to the kitchen to feed Petunia and fix myself a quick cup of coffee. I put Petunias food bowl down for her to eat before turning to grab a travel mug to put the coffee into since I didn’t have time to sit and enjoy a cup.

Right when I reach in, my movements freeze as I notice the mug sitting behind mine, Y/N’s favorite.

There is still a trace of her lipstick on it, I could wash it off if I wanted to. It would probably be best, but I just can’t get myself to do it.

“I wish this was all some twisted dream...” I mumble to myself before I pour the coffee into the travel cup and take Petunia out.

When I walk back into my bedroom to get ready, I notice the record player in the corner. The one she loved to listen to as she got ready for the day.

I need noise, even if it’s from her music collection. I constantly have to drown out the silence of being alone in this big house with just Petunia.

I slowly walk over and pick a jazz record to play before going into the closet to find my clothes for the day.
I bob my head to the smooth sounds, slightly dancing like I used to when Y/N... It was my fault she left.

It was the harsh truth, like taking a shot.

As I continue to dance around, I can still feel the way she felt in my arms as we danced through the house together.

AN: Hopefully this uploads Ok, my phone never uploads my imagines correctly. (•-•) <-- it's Baymax.