(w.h. is without him.)
Michael told the guys to get out immediately when he walked back inside.
They obeyed.
He was worse now than when his closest grandmother died.
He had lashed out on the boys then, especially Luke, whom he had only been dating for a short while then.
Ashton and Calum knew to keep their distance.
Michael walked into the house, smelling not Calum, not Ashton, not the bacon he'd been frying earlier, but Luke. It was as if his nose and eyes and every sense he had had suddenly become hypersensitive to /Luke/.
He glanced over at the piano, and the neatly stacked music books and slips of paper with endless notes on them.
He could look through Luke's secrets, the way he played Ode to Joy as opposed to Canon in D Major.
The side notes he'd include, or the silly things he wrote in his songbooks, like, "work on this song for Michael!" or even older notes that scribbled messy words intertwined with the name Aleisha.
Michael found himself poring over every music book Luke had, reading the words written in the margins and feeling his heart ache for Luke.
YOU ARE READING
muse-ic. ➵ muke ✔
Fanfictionwhere luke is a pianist and michael is his boyfriend who often feels neglected, as the piano often captures luke's attention more than he does.
