One Shots » muke

Dead? ~K

I still love the way you hurt me.

-

Michael scrolled through Twitter, hoping to get his mind off of all the bullshit that's been happening.

Luke and him may have gotten into a stupid argument. One that escalated unnecessarily. Harsh words that neither of them meant were thrown around. Each syllable digging into the other's heart like a dagger. It was so stupid but both boys were too stubborn to apologize.

All Michael wanted was to watch stupid cat videos or someone hit themselves in the head with a ball. But the first thing that just happened to pop up on his feed wasn't any of those things.

"Muke is dead."

It was so casual. It wasn't a question. It seemed to be more of a statement; maybe a fact. Like the words itself just announced the ending of the world as if it was nothing.

Michael fingers stopped tapping at the screen. His emerald eyes transfixed on the words as if he couldn't believe they were real. Of course they're real, but were they true?

Was all of those moments falling for his Angel some waste of time? Just a fling of some emotions that meant nothing?

No.

No.

Michael pushed up from his spot on the couch and headed straight for their dressing room. He yanked open the door already hearing the laughing voices behind it.

Except the laughter was only coming from Ashton and Calum. Grins spread across their faces as a cartoon played on a TV. Meanwhile, Luke sat emotionless in the corner of the couch, his mind beyond the multicolored characters on a screen.

He didn't notice the extra presence in the room until Michael spoke. The too familiar voice snapped him out of his small wonderland.

"Can you leave us alone for a moment, guys?" Michael said in a calm voice; a voice he didn't use too often.

Calum looked at Ashton and raised his dark eye brows. They both knew shit was about to fly and weren't eager to see it. Both of them knew the tension between their two band mates and quickly agreed to exit the now suffocating space.

Michael and Luke paid no attention to their suddenly silenced friends as their eyes bored holes into each other. Even when the door clicked shut, the quiet seemed to remain.

Michael took a deep breath and slowly released it. "Luke." He said. The blonde boy broke the eye contact and looked down at his lap. His fingers fiddled with each other, signaling to Michael that he was nervous.

"Luke." Michael repeated, but this time, in a way Luke enjoyed; quiet, effortless. Allowing the name to roll right off his tongue like he was meant to say it.

Michael lowered himself onto the couch beside the younger, nearly holding his breath as he did so. "I'm sorry." He practically whispered, and Luke's face finally snapped up. It took a complete miracle to make Michael apologize since he was so stubborn.

"I'm so fucking sorry." Michael said once more. His tattooed fingers carefully grabbed Luke's fiddling ones. "I'm sorry I said those awful things, Angel. You mean everything to me. I physically and mentally cannot lose you. Especially when it was all my fault."