Stay | Arctic Monkeys Fanfiction

Twenty Seven- How Could You Wake Up With Someone You Don't Love?

Alex followed me into my dreams that night.

Everything around me was hazy, and I was walking down the sidewalk in one of the fancy neighborhoods Alex and I used to go through just to talk shite about when we were younger.  But it was different now, because I had this sort of sense that Alex lived in one of the houses.

I was passing in front of the biggest of them all-- a huge mansion with at least five stories.  It was made completely of brick and had under lighting that gave it an extremely grandiose vibe.  Alex had to live in that one, because I stopped right there.

And that's when a man jumped from the shadows.  He was in all black, shouting at me over and over to give him my money, but I didn't have any.  

And before I knew what was happening, he pulled out a knife and stabbed me in the stomach.

I fell to the ground, calling Alex's name over and over and over until he finally appeared over me.  

He was a wreck, yelling and crying and trying to stop the bleeding.  But I could tell that I was dying, and I think he could too.

Because just as I was about to fade away completely, he kissed me.

I woke with a start, the feeling of Alex's lips imprinted on mine.

My heart was aching and thumping wildly all at once, and I was scared.  Not because I had dreamt that I was stabbed to death.

But because for a moment I knew what it felt like for Alex to love me back.

I was still breathing heavily, the dream spinning through my mind. I had to keep telling myself that things were okay... things were back to normal...

But then I began to put together that things were definitely not normal in any sense of the fucking word, because I realized I was still in bed with Alex Turner. 

We were tangled together in a mess of bedsheets and limbs.  Alex was wrapped around me, his head lying on my collar bone.  The early morning light was radiating through my window, lighten up his fair skin.  His hair was an absolute mess and ticking my skin as it brushed up against my neck.  He smelled like expensive cologne and bad decisions and I don't think I'd ever wanted him all to myself more than I did then.

God.  I was in deep.

"Dav," he murmured without opening his eyes.  He let out a heavy breath and I couldn't tell if he was even awake or not.  

He murmured my name again and looked up at me with his dark, sleepy eyes.

"Sup," I muttered, trying to pull myself fully into consciousness.  

I think the fact that we were lying so close to each other hit both of us at the same time, because we both kind of just stopped, looking at each other wordlessly.

"We're, uh..." he trailed off.

"I was, um, going to sleep on the couch," I told him quickly.  "But you pulled me into the bed with you."

"Did I?" he asked innocently.  

I nodded.  We both went silent, looking at each other awkwardly, before busting out into laughter

But even now, when we were both conscious and sober, we still didn't pull away from each other.  

"My head fucking hurts," he said, laying his head back down on my shoulder.  "You're comfortable, ye know?  Must be all the extra cushioning."

I laughed, swatting his arm as hard as I could.  "Asshole."

He laughed with me, and everything about the moment felt so right.  The two of us laying in my bed together, laughing about everything and nothing.