I look at you and I keep going back to the times you held my hand under the table, on our way home, in the park. I hear your voice and I recall the nights you whispered how much you loved me and how you held me so tight on so many days that I can’t forget that this is how I should be held - close, close enough that I could hear how fast your heart is beating next to mine; close, just near enough so I could kiss the crook of your neck.
—  excerpt from a book i’ll never write #11 // R.L.
I Just Miss You

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): Vine/YouTube/Thomas Sanders

Rating: PG? G?

Original Idea: Totally not me recently becoming obsessed with something else or anything. Or a writing prompt on Pinterest. Totally not either of those things.

Notes: (Masterlist)(About Me) So, my BFF was in love with this guy for ages and I had no idea who he was. Let’s just say… that is no longer true. And if I can write fanfiction about something, I probably will write fanfiction about that thing. Or person…

“I Just Miss You”


Summer made Thomas think of pianos, falling leaves, and red cars.

Summer made Thomas think of her.

They’d only been together for a little while—just during the summer. They never even really told anyone that they were sort of dating. She wasn’t in any of his Vines and he rarely spoke of her to his friends anymore, but that summer had never left him.

It was several years ago. She had a red car that they would drive in after dark to the local park, where they would lie under a giant tree, hand in hand. Thomas was a leftie and she was a righty—holding each other’s dominant hands was much more comfortable for both of them. Near the end of August the leaves would drift down from the tops of the tree and land around the two of them, revealing small little holes that would let stars twinkle through.

Some days they would find themselves at one his friend’s houses. And, pretending they weren’t interested in dating each other, she would play the piano to some Disney duet and the two of them would sing while his other friends watched and laughed. He’d sit on the piano bench next to her, facing the opposite direction, and sing the male parts as she sang the female parts and played. She was a soprano with a clear and pure head-voice and a powerful belt that was only rivalled by Thomas’. She couldn’t riff on notes the way he could, but he liked hearing how simple and sweet she sang everything. The differences and similarities between the two of them made for good compatibility.

But that was several years ago. He hadn’t really seen her since. Every time he saw a red car, or sat under their tree when the leaves began to fall, or heard someone playing the piano, he thought of her. Their summer together had been blissful, even though no one had known about it. The Florida weather couldn’t have cooperated better than it had then.

When August had ended, she’d left—moved back “home” to a different state—more than half the country away. She’d taken her red car and her beautiful, clear soprano voice with her.

Thomas still missed her. Sometimes he’d pull up the file of photos of the two of them that he’d saved to his Google Drive so no one would ever find them on his phone. His favorite was a silly selfie of them kissing, peeking at the camera out of the corners of their eyes.

He looked around at the park, back resting against the trunk of their tree. His memories were dancing through his brain, Disney and Broadway duets with his voice—accompanied flawlessly by hers—never ceasing. He remembered sitting under the very same tree, a warm summer breeze playing with their hair, almost promising rain. He remembered looking over at her with a grin. He remembered holding her against him on a different day, as she wept at something he couldn’t remember. He wasn’t particularly tall himself, but she was smaller than most of his other female friends, and she fit perfectly in his arms.

Sometimes they’d text late at night or send each other Snapchats with no warning or much context—like the time she sent him a video of her singing part of Let It Go or part of a thunderstorm.


I had lost count of how many years it had been since my summer in Florida. I missed it. I missed him, more specifically. I looked fondly at the pictures of me and Thomas that I’d never deleted. No one went through my phone so I’d never seen reason to hide them. I didn’t have enough friends for that.

My favorite was one of me wearing my old red lipstick giving him a big kiss on the cheek and leaving a big mark with a cheeky look on my face.

I was sitting in my car. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I could still smell him in the empty passenger seat. I couldn’t remember the name of his cologne, but I could remember exactly what it smelled like in the middle of the night while we drove to the park in Florida and sat under the tree to watch the stars and the moon and just feel the breeze in our hair. I remembered the scent as I’d glance over at him quickly on the road to laugh at something he’d said.

The moon was soaring over the suburbs and the trees. I wasn’t entirely sure, but I was pretty sure Florida was two hours ahead of me. Thomas was definitely still awake, assuming his sleeping pattern hadn’t changed in a couple years. The same moon was looking down on him too. I peered at it through my windshield, thinking about how much I wanted to go back to Florida.

You up? I texted Thomas.


Can I… call you?


I called his phone, curled up on the driver’s seat of my car. I should have gone back to my apartment hours ago, but I’d started driving to clear my head with the radio on and just hadn’t stopped—until I got to an empty park. I’d watched the sunset in my car, remembering Florida.

“Hey,” Thomas answered.

“Hi,” I replied, a bit sad.

“What’s on your mind? You haven’t, like, called me in ages.”

I sighed. “I miss Florida. I miss you.”

“It’s been years,” he pointed out.

“I know. I never stopped missing you,” I admitted. “I never stopping pining for our tree in that park and singing Disney together. I always meant to call or Skype or something, but every time I pulled up your name I just couldn’t do it. I’m a pathetic wimp. Not even brave enough to call the best man I’ve ever fallen in love with.” I shook my head, even though I knew he couldn’t see me. “I just… I’m missing you even more than usual tonight. I needed to hear your voice. And not in a Vine or a Snapchat. I needed to hear you talk to me properly. I just miss you so much. I miss making fun of the fact that you’re left-handed and I’m right-handed. I miss watching you and your friends make those ridiculously hilarious Vines. I miss the way I could smell your cologne or whatever in my car while we drove to the park. I miss your smile and your laugh when I made a bad joke. I miss your voice and holding your hand and getting ice cream at unholy hours of the morning when neither of us could sleep. I just miss you.”

I stopped because if I kept going I’d break down. And I wasn’t going to cry on the phone. I’d cried in front of Thomas several times. I was just the right height to fit snugly in his arms and under his chin. I wasn’t afraid of crying in front of him. I just didn’t want to cry sitting in my car at an empty park in the middle of the night. That sounded like a sure-fire way to get attacked.

There was a long pause on the other end of the call. Then I heard Thomas sigh. “I miss you too, babe,” he replied. My heartstrings squeezed. I hadn’t been called that in a long time. “I miss the way you sing and play the piano and hold my hand under our tree. I miss seeing the light in your eyes when my friends and I would make a truly ridiculous Vine and you’d be holding the camera. I miss kissing you under the willow tree because the tresses were so thick no one would be able to see us. I miss the fun of having such a delightful secret—that we had no real reason to keep. I miss cuddling with you while watching any of our shows. I miss resting my head on top of yours while yours was on my shoulder. I miss stargazing with you and letting you tell me everything you knew about space. Summer still reminds me of you. And I suspect it always will.”


“Oh yeah. I will never forget that summer.”

“Me neither.” I cleared my throat. “Thanks for letting me vent. I’m sorry if I bothered you.”

“Not at all. You could never bother me.”

“I’ll let you go to bed, or whatever it was you were doing. Night, Thomas.”

“Night, babe.”

I hung up. A single tear slipped out of my left eye and splashed onto my hand where it was resting on my lap. I stared out at the park. There was a willow tree next to a fountain that wasn’t spouting water several yards away. I blinked another tear out of my other eye, touched and a bit melancholy. He missed me. Summer reminded him of me the same way it reminded me of him.

Normally I wasn’t prone to impulsive decisions. But I put my seatbelt back on, ignited my engine, and drove back to my apartment to pack.

I was going back to Florida. I didn’t care how long the drive was or the fact that I was going to be alone for most of it. I was going back to Florida. And I was starting my drive tonight. I wouldn’t be getting any sleep anyway.


I turned my phone camera to the front one and smiled into it. “Story time!” I said brightly. I switched the camera and knocked on Thomas’ front door, pulling my Batman beanie farther down my face so he wouldn’t be able to tell it was me right off the bat, but the stitches were loose enough that I could see through them. I bit my lower lip.

The door creaked open. The outline was definitely Thomas. Not particularly tall, stocky, still handsome as heck. I could see the way his hair fell onto his forehead, parted way off to the left because he hated that it naturally parted down the middle.

“The man had no idea what surprise was waiting for him!” I narrated in my best impression of Thomas’ voice, pulling the beanie off my head and looking up a bit.

His mouth dropped open. “What are you doing here?!” he demanded, throwing his arms around me.

I smiled. “I missed you,” I answered simply.

“So you drove all the way to Florida?!” He pushed me out at arm’s length to see me better.

I held up my phone, which was still recording, and winked at him. “I suppose you could say I… did it for the Vine,” I teased. He snorted and rolled his eyes.

“I thought you hated that phrase,” he commented.

“I do. But I couldn’t resist. I had a good thirty-six hours to come up with a joke that terrible that would make you laugh,” I replied, stopping the recording and putting my phone in my pocket. I would edit it so the video was six seconds long later.

Thomas kissed my forehead. “It’s good to see you.”

I tilted up on my tiptoes to kiss his lips. “It’s good to see you too.”

“The pieces of my broken heart are so small, they could be passes through the eye of a needle. I miss you like the sun misses the flower; like the sun misses the flower in the depths of winter. Instead of beauty to direct its light to, the heart hardens like the frozen world your absence has banished me to.”
Happy birthday, my beautiful prince.
April 4, 1979