meghan trainor oneshots // m.t

5.8 • Missing You

We haven't spoken in weeks. A long time; too long. I glance at our texts and I see the last one that either of us sent, it was me.

I miss you baby-cakes :(

That was so long ago, he hasn't even read it yet. The lonely, 'delivered' haunted me... I never thought I'd long to see that all too familiar 'Read' underneath the text, but I do. I've never missed someone like this. Not even my mom or dad or either of my brothers. I cry whenever someone so much as says his name. My heart is empty without him there, I can't write songs anymore, not good ones anyway, the words don't just flow like they used to do. I miss our writing sessions, where we'd trade lyrics and put them together; I miss how perfectly our voices harmonised; I miss his perfect hair; his enchanting eyes that could flick from jade green to auburn in a second; the scar in his eyebrow; the ripped jeans he always wore; the imperfections that made him effortlessly perfect.

I'm staring at our text messages. I don't know why, it's not going to make him come back. It doesn't matter how much I want it. I turn my phone off and throw it onto the couch behind me, I grab the half-empty bottle of tequila from the coffee table and throw my head back, tipping the burning liquid into my mouth. It seared my mouth and throat as it slid down. My stomach bubbled unhappily in protest to the painful burning I'd forced it to endure. My insides were on fire. I didn't care, I missed him. I threw my head back, and took some more. Then some more, until the bottle was almost empty and I was both physically and emotionally drained and numb. My stomach didn't burn in protest and my throat didn't sting, my mind was blank I wasn't crying.

Charles Otto Puth has officially got me fucked up.

I turned my phone on again, and started scrolling through past messages, again. I stopped, and went to watch videos from the MTrain Tour. When we messed around outside with the bellboy's luggage carriage. I watched through glassy eyes as the memories flash through my mind while I'm flicking through the old videos. Us dong stupid things like getting drunk and then trying to walk across a fence or riding a horse. A picture of him shirtless while giving a laughing, blonde me a piggy back. Videos of us singing together, our voices blending together in a celestial harmony. Pictures of lyrics. The times when Charlie and I would take a video of us playing truth or dare. A picture of Charlie pecking me on the lips as a joke, and so he could blackmail me for pizza.

"I'll post it!" He threatened jokingly. "I swear I will! Give me half of your pizza, and I won't," he tried to reason. I pouted like a child and lightly shook my head.

"No," I'd whined defiantly, moving the pizza box away from him. He smirked, wiggling his fingers in the air to indicate he'd tickle me. "Don't make empty threats, Puth!" I'd warned shakily, trying to move away because I knew it wasn't just an empty threat. He laughed and started tickling me mercilessly. I'd squirmed under him and tried to push him off of me, to no avail. "Okay, okay!" I caved. He stopped tickling me and rose an eyebrow. "You can have half of my pizza!" I spoke breathlessly. He put on his smug face. "Asshole," I muttered under my breath.

"What was that, dear?"

"Nothing!" I defended quickly. He smirked triumphantly and turned back to my pizza.

My eyes watered as I remembered the story behind every video, every picture, every lyric, every smile. Now what had it all amounted to? Nothing. Apparently friendship means nothing to him. I still miss him though. It's stupid, I'm nothing more than a friend to him, I'm just one of his best friends who happens to be a girl. I was about to take the final swig of my tequila when somebody knocked at my door. I huffed, pulling myself up. Who the fuck is knocking on my door at 1am? I pulled open the door, after stumbling drunkenly over to it. Who I saw, made my legs turn to jello. "Charlie," I breathed. He stared into my eyes for a moment, like he was deliberating whether or not he should do or say something. Then, he did it. He captured me in a long, passionate kiss, making me stumble backwards. I cupped his cheeks in my hands as his tongue danced across my bottom lip, making me moan and open my mouth to him. He pressed me up against the wall and continued kissing me, hard. We only pulled away when our lungs burned for air.

"You taste like tequila," he spoke breathlessly, licking his lips.

"I've been drinking it," I shrugged, panting. He chuckled, shaking his head and mouthed 'why'. "I missed you," I smiled sadly and his eyes shone with guilt. He pulled my in a for a hug and I breathed in his scent. Fuck, he smelt so good. We pulled away. "Do you think I'm pretty?" I asked. I'm sure my words were slightly slurred as I was drunk and didn't know what I was doing.

He shook his head, "No." My heart sank. Sure, if he doesn't have feelings for me that's fair enough but he doesn't have to be mean about it.

"Do you want me?" I questioned, tears pricking at my eyes from his previous response. He curled his lips in.

"No," he responded curtly. Again, with the shake of his head. Now there was a lump in my throat, and I wasn't sure if I could speak again.

"If I left," I started shakily. "Would you cry?"

Once again, he kept his pride and emotional distance as he spoke a defiant, "No." My legs shook underneath me and threatened to give way. Could he at least pretend to care? A sob rose painfully to my throat, pushing past the lump that had formed there and trying to make me cry. No, I won't cry. Not in front of him. I won't give him that satisfaction.

"Get out," I muttered angrily. He didn't budge. "Get out," I spoke through gritted teeth and louder. Still, he stood his ground and didn't move "Get out!" I repeated, almost screaming the words.

"Meghan I-"

"I SAID GET OUT, CHARLIE! GODDAMNIT GET OUT!" I shouted, finally losing it. I pushed him out the door and slammed it behind him. Couldn't he see how in love with him I was? Couldn't he see how much he hurt me? Did he not care? Finally, the tears fell, slipping slickly down my cheeks, the sobs breaking free as I cried. I slumped down the door, becoming a sobbing puddle at the bottom of it.

"Meghan?" Charlie whispered from the other side of the door. I ignored him, not moving but making my self quieter; forcing my sobs to sniffles but the tears escaped from my glassy eyes. "You're not pretty," he spoke. Does he want to rub it in? I cried harder into my hands. "You're beautiful. I don't want you, I need you. And I wouldn't cry if you left me, I would die." He stressed 'die'. I cried harder, not because I was upset, but because of how sweet Charlie was being he paused for a while before speaking again. "I love you," he whispered through the door, but I still heard.

"I love you too," I cried. I moved away from the door as he pushed it open. I was officially a mess, a crying, emotional wreck on the floor. He closed the door behind him and sat down with me, pulling me onto his lap. He stroked the hair from my eyes.

"You're beautiful," he uttered, before pressing his lips against mine in a sweet, meaningful kiss. "I love you, Meghan Elizabeth Trainor. Don't you ever leave me."

A/N: I quite like this one. Idk... what did you guys think?

Stay strong lovelies,
- Faye x