Breakups. (Troyler Fanfic.)

Chapter Twenty Six.

"No one has to know what we do. His hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room and his voice is a familiar sound. Nothing lasts forever but this is getting good now." Wildest Dreams // Taylor Swift.

(Once in this story I used Taylor Swift lyrics and immediately after said I didn't like her but that song went well, blah, blah. Just wanted you to know, I was oh so very wrong. She's a queen.)

Tylers POV.

After Troye left, I lied in bed for a bit before deciding I should probably do something productive and actually wake up. So, after taking a shower and an impromptu call from Troye telling me he made it to the recording studio and wishing me a good day, how cute is he, I've raided my fridge and pantry to only be disappointed. Deciding that my food supply was way to slim to even feed a fly, I choose to go grocery shopping.

Now, as I'm finishing up putting everything I need in my cart, I'm sighing as I pass the display of Nutella. We've been away from each other for like two hours and I already miss him. Rolling my eyes at myself, I grab two jars and continue to walk only to get interrupted a second later by a ringing from my phone.

I immediately grab my phone from my pocket, attempting to ignore the various heads turning at my loud ring tone, and answer it without checking caller ID before it can disturb anybody else.

"Hello," I answer, walking a bit away from the wondering eyes.

"Hey, Tyler," His familiar voice says, making my eyes widen when I realized who I was talking to. I mean, I haven't necessarily forgot about him, just putting off this conversation.

"Hi, Luke," I say, my voice trying so hard to be emotionless.

"You never texted me back?" He says, not accusingly but more like a question. I just mumble an apology continuing to walk slowly with my basket.

Clearing my throat and actually trying to gain my usual confidence back, I say, "Actually, I need to talk to you."

"Oh?" He questions unknowingly.

"Yeah, meet me at my house. Half an hour okay?" I say, not thinking so my anxious thoughts won't get the best of me.

He agrees before saying a goodbye, me mumbling mine back. I was never very keen on those over the phone, Facebook message, breakups. Although, I didn't want to see him, I had to do this. I had to if I wanted Troye, if I wanted us to work out.

---

Thirty five minutes and counting, there was finally a knock on my door. Rubbing a hand over my face, I made my way to it and let in my expected visitor.

He was wearing a quarter length sleeved shirt, the sleeves were red and the shirt was white with a design. It was tight on his muscular body and he was sporting red bandana in his hair, making my stare on him just a bit longer than it should.

Knocking it off and keeping the plan in my mind, I invited him in after he flashed a smile with bright teeth my way.

"So, you wanted to talk?" He asked, smiling at me softly with big eyes.

"Yeah, - okay, yeah." I awkwardly say, not knowing exactly how to do this. After a long bit of silence, I finally begin to talk again, "So, Luke, I don't think - we can really do this anymore."

"Do what?" He asks, obliviously.

"Talk," I mutter, trying my hardest not to feel guilty, remembering how Troye makes me feel, I watch his face drop, small disappointment showing on his features

"Oh," is all he says before a spark comes back alive, making me uncomfortable to watch it.

"Are you sure?" He asks, innocence in his features but his hand being placed just above my knee. My eyes widen, not sure of exactly just what he was trying to do. I get lost in his eyes, just trying to find an emotion or motive in them. Before I know it, his hands move higher on my leg and my eyes go wider. "Are you sure you want to stop talking?" I don't even notice his face moving steadily closer, too caught in my own head.

It wouldn't be too bad if - No! I couldn't do that, especially to Troye. Before I could even think about it further, my hand was coming out to push him away from me.

"I'm sure. You need to leave." I say sternly, bouncing up from seat and striding over to the door. I open it and stare at the ground, not daring to look at his face as he walked out.

I lock up behind him before collapsing back onto my long, beloved couch. Trying to distinguish the horrible situation from my mind, I pull out my phone and almost instinctively open Troyes contact.

Knowing he wouldn't answer a phone call while he's in his element at the recording studio, I type out a quick, but honest, text.

"I hope you're having fun at the recording studio. I can't wait until tomorrow. It's keeping me from going insane after you left me all alone," with a pink heart emoji.

I get a message quickly after, making my smile almost painful. "Tyler, I love this place. I can't wait until I can show you the song I'm working on. It's insane, you're going to love it. + don't worry, the wait will be well worth it. You're in for a treat.", with an array of the heart eyed, the smiley face, and the red heart emoji. Who knew mini pixilated emoticons could make my stomach flutter so much?

"If you're not the treat, I'm piecing out." I say with the winky face - tongue out emoji.

"TYLER!!!!" The next text reads with the classic monkey emojis, one covering its mouth and the next his eyes. I can almost hear his beautiful accent, groaning my name, always forgetting the 'r' at the end.

Seconds after, I get my last text from him, "Ugh, I just got yelled at for using my phone. It's like I'm back at school. I'll talk to you soon, babe." with three pink heart emojis.

It's almost funny how happy he can make me so happy. He's the one, and no matter how much I used to deny it, he always has been.

Just a short little chapter to get rid of Luke and a little bit of cute texting. Are you guys happy now? Okay, I'm sleepy because I stayed up all night reading the Freak (VOTE FOR FREAK.) and Gold Star Student updates, sigh. They kill me. Okay, Dubai. Ily.

--- ohitroyler. (follow me on twitter, i use it now, as of yesterday.) (and also tumblr, of course.)