t minus 6 weeks 6 days

Photograph - Michael Clifford [FLUFF]

Requested - no

Summary~ Some things come in pairs; salt and pepper, peanut butter and jelly, pens and pencils. And like that so do people; Brad and Angelina, Beyonce and Jay Z, the Beckhams. But it’s rare to find your perfectly compatible other half, most people get one that matches perfectly but never meet, and there are an unlucky few who find their’s but are separated by miles of open road

A/N: I came up with this listening to Ed Sheeran - Photograph so

Word Count - 1419

You stare at your walls, covered every inch in photos, along with perfect twinkling lights. To anyone who was just looking it’d look like you have photos of all your friends, and you do, but for every one photo of them, there’s two of him. Chin selfies, stupid screenshotted snapchats, actual serious selfies of him looking ever so slightly god-like, and even a couple of you together, be it in person or through bad photoshops. 

A smile toys at your lips as you stand on your bed and change the countdown on your whiteboard from 10 to 9, “Single figures”

Your phone then lights up, a text message; ‘Michael’, it’s him. You can’t fight the smile that appears on your face.

Michael: 00:01 It’s officially single figures

You: Don’t you have a Physics final tomorrow?

Michael: Yeah, so?

You: Go to bed

Michael: I’ll be fine, I hate physics anyway, the only thing that matters to me is counting down the days until I finally get to see you again

You: I worry about you sometimes, just sleep

Michael: You worry because you care, goodnight princess.

You and Michael have only met a couple of times in person, once last summer for a matter of hours and the Christmas before that when you persuaded your mother to drive you to a random town just so you could see each other’s faces before leaving again. The two of you have been talking for 1, nearly 2, years now, after meeting on a music forum, which is not all that long in comparison to your 17 years on earth but you started talking at the age of 15 and both of you have failed to grow up since. 

You’re unable to sleep much that night, you’re not entirely sure why, well you are, it’s because of Michael, but it doesn’t make sense, it’s not like you’re seeing him tomorrow, though you have a feeling this is how the rest of your week will be. There are around 750 miles between you and Michael, that’s not quite enough to warrant splashing out for a plane ticket but pretty much an entire day’s drive. Michael has been saving for months to get money for gas, and he’ll be staying at your place for a grand total of 6 days, Friday night leaving Thursday morning. 6 days of perfection.

“Your aunt was asking about you,” your other says one morning, with t-minus 6 days to go.

“What was she saying?” you ask.

“You know her, the only thing she wanted to know was whether you’d found yourself a boyfriend,” she casually replies without looking up.

“Well, I don’t need a boyfriend,” you begin before smiling ever so slightly. “I have a Michael”

Your mother narrows her eyes, she was never the biggest ambassador for internet interactions, and she always was skeptical about Michael. Now she doesn’t seem too bothered by it, after she was certain he wasn’t a kind of predator, though she doesn’t really see it as anything serious.

“[Y/N], I want you to think for a second, as much as you think you know Michael, he has way more opportunity to hurt you, you need to be careful, I mean I’m happy to have him stay, but you need to have everything in consideration,” she says.

You nod at her severity, “I know”

When you sit down in your room later that night, you flick on the switch of your fairy lights and simply stare up at the photos and the single number on the white board. Your mind is flooded with thoughts of what your mother had told you earlier and suddenly you’re questioning everything. Mikey and you have always had a platonic relationship, sure you want more, you both do, but it’s just not possible with the distance there is between you, and it had never occurred to you to actually think about Michael not being all he’s made out to be. So naturally, you pick up your phone.

You: You wouldn’t hurt me, right?

Michael: What’s brought this on?

You: I just need an answer, Mikey

He calls you and you answer instantly.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“How do you now there’s something wrong?” you reply, sniffing.

“I know you, [Y/N]. What’s wrong?” he persists.

“I just, I got scared, what if we don’t actually know each other that well? What if through all this effort, we end up just hurting each other?” you sob.

“[Y/N], listen, calm down, it’s fine, I would never set out to hurt you, and I’d hope you wouldn’t try to hurt me, but even if you did, I wouldn’t mine because I appreciate just seeing you, no- talking to you, no- just being acknowledged by you, and I can’t wait to see you again,” he vents.

You’re phone then vibrates against your ear and Michael can hear that through the phone too.

“What was that?” he chuckles lightly.

“I set a notification for midnight every night so I could successfully count down to you being here,” you admit.

“Ah, 5 days,” he says.

“I’ll see you then,” you smile before bidding each other farewell.

The days count down after that, each one more strenuously long than the last. And then the day arrives.

“Has he called?” your mother asks when she sees you pacing back and forth in the hallway.

“No, do you think he’s still coming?” you panic a little.

“No, I’m sure he’s just stuck in traffic,” she reassures.

Just then your phone buzzes.

Michael: Pulling up into your road.

You squeal and rush out the door, just then his shitty car pulls up and parks before he gets out. You rush to him, it’s only 8pm, though he’s had a long day’s drive but still he hugs you with such energy.

It took a long time before you actually said anything to each other but now, at 9.15pm you’re walking down a dark street with take away fries in hand.

“Have you ever thought about us,” you say out of the blue almost.

“What do you mean?” he asks looping an arm around you

“Like, stop me if I overstep, but I always expected, I don’t know, something to hapen with us. We don’t see other people because let’s face it that’d be weird,” you start to ramble fiddling with his fingers before intertwining them. “We talk like a married couple, it’s just this stupid distance that’s stoppi-”

You’re cut short when his grip on your hand tightens and he spins you around 360 degrees and letting his hands rest at your waist. All you catch a glimpse of around you is the little bubble that is created by the horribly yellow lamp post that gives enough light for you to see the 6th street sign. All of your questions are answered when his lips land on yours and butterflies fill your stomach.

Michael is told to sleep in the guest room but that doesn’t stop the two of you staying up until the early hours of the morning anyway, and you spend the days he has with you never leaving each others side, and at least now you have some idea of the status you two have.

“I’m going to miss you,” you pout while watching himpack on the Wednesday night.

“I know, I’l miss you too, but at least we have more pictures together,” he smiles, standing and pecking your lips. “Actually talking of pictures, do you still have that necklace I bought you for your 16th birthday?”

You reach around your neck, “I wear it every day”

“Can I see it?” he asks hoding out a hand.

Almost reluctantly you hand it over and watch as he fiddles with it before it pops open, “It’s a locket”

“What?” your eyes widen, “Why didn’t I know that?”

“Because I didn’t want to tell you until I found the right picture to put in it”

He slides something in before showing you, the first picture the two of you ever took together, the first time you met.

“Now I’ll be right next to your heart all the time, as cheesy as that is,” he laughs slightly, shifting your hair and securing it around your neck again.

You smile, “I love it,” he turns you to face him, “I love you”

He kisses your nose, “I love you too, and we’ll be together, I don’t quite know how but we’ll find a way, trust me”


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