I need a fucking miracle

・┈・୨୧・┈・

“So… have you had a good time?” Noah asked as you walked hand in hand back to the hotel. You’d be leaving Paris early tomorrow morning, so you two decided to go out for one last fancy dinner, watch the tower sparkle, then make your way back to the hotel. 

“It’s been amazing,” you said, nodding your head, “Thank you, Noah. I really mean it… I’ve needed this.” 

He chuckled, looking down at the ground for a moment before glancing back at you again. 

“What have I told you about thanking me, hm?”

You felt your cheeks suddenly warm, and you gave him a little smile. 

“So…” you said, looking up at the dark night sky, “What’s happening when we get home?”

“What do you mean?” Noah asked. 

You immediately felt shy, which you felt stupid for, since you’ve spent the last four days together. 

“I don’t know,” you said quietly, followed by a shrug, “I guess I’m gonna miss you.”

Noah stopped in his tracks, giving your hand a quick squeeze as you stopped beside him. 

“Baby,” he said with a quiet chuckle, “Just because we’re home doesn't mean we can’t spend time together. You know we live twenty minutes apart, right?”

That earned a reluctant smile from you. 

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is the point?”

You hesitated for a moment as you wondered that yourself.

The point was that this trip had felt like you were in your own bubble, a perfect little world where neither of you had responsibilities or stress- besides the phone calls Noah had to take every now and then. But it felt like now it was coming to an end, the bubble was inevitably going to pop, and you weren’t sure what was going to happen after it did. 

Noah’s face softened, he had learned to read you over these days, and so he knew right now that you were overthinking. 

“You think this ends when we get home?” 

You didn’t answer that, which answered for you. Noah held his arms open, an invitation for you to step into them. 

“Come here.” He said, and so you did. 

He wrapped his arms around you, the two of you standing in the middle of the street, before pulling back to look you in the eyes. 

“Listen to me.” You did. “When we get home, I’ll still call you.” You smiled, “I’ll still annoy you, I’ll still take you to dinner, I’ll still spend time with you.” 

Your chest felt a little lighter, your heart fluttering at how simply he’d said it, like he didn’t even have to think twice. Then Noah tilted his head slightly as you pulled back.

“And if I remember correctly, you’ve got about fifty shopping bags full of things you need to show off- and I plan on letting you.” 

You chuckled, before taking his hand again as you continued walking back to the hotel. 

“So, what kinda things do you want to do when we’re back home?” Noah asked, and you shrugged. 

“I don’t know. I thought you were the one who comes up with the plans.” 

“Well maybe I want you to take the lead,” he smirked, “C’mon, is there anywhere you wanna visit? Bars or restaurants you want to try? A concert you want to go to?”

You were quiet for a moment, thinking about it. Because there was something… 

“Actually…” You said, earning a grin from him. 

“What is it?”

“There’s a band I've always wanted to see, and they’re playing in our city in a few weeks.”

“Who?” He asked, and you looked up to meet his eyes. 

“Bring Me The Horizon.” 

Noah casually nodded his head, like you’d told him you wanted to go to the grocery store or something. 

“I can get us in.” 

You laughed. 

“No you can’t, all the tickets sold out in like 10 minutes. And I am not letting you give your money to scalpers for overpriced resale tickets.” 

“Oh, I won’t need to, baby.” He said smugly, making you stop in your tracks. 

“So how exactly do you plan on getting us in?” 

Noah just shrugged. 

“Oli owes me a favour.” 

“Oli… Oliver Sykes?” You scoffed, and it was clear Noah was trying not to laugh. 

“Yes.” 

You stared at him, like you were trying to figure out whether to believe him or not. 

“...You know Oli Sykes?”

Noah laughed. 

“Of course I do. My band opened for them a couple years ago. Y'know, I even sung Antivist on stage with him a few times.” 

You shook your head in disbelief. 

“How have you never told me this?”

“You never asked!” 

“Because I didn’t know I needed to ask!” You scoffed in disbelief.

Noah laughed again, and you were still staring up at him, trying to process all this information. You knew his band must’ve been doing well for him to have the money he has, but you didn’t quite realise who Noah was… 

“So you’re telling me… you’re friends with Oli?”

“We’ve worked together and we get along… I don’t know if he’d count me as a friend.” Noah chuckled, suddenly seeming a little shy.

“But you have his number right?” You asked, and Noah nodded his head. “Oh my god, text him!” 

“I can’t text him.” Noah laughed. 

“Please?”

“No.” 

“Pretty please?”

“No,” he chuckled, “He’s probably spending time with his kids or in rehearsals or something.”

You pouted. 

“Just one text? Just check in on him…?”

“I am not texting Oli at nearly midnight because the pretty girl I took to Paris told me to.” 

You let out a long sigh, shaking your head in defeat. 

“Baby,” he said, cupping your cheek in his hand, “I’ll make sure you get to see them, okay?”

“You will?” You smiled, your heart skipping a beat. 

“Of course I will.” He said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. And the excitement on your face must’ve been obvious because when he pulled away, his smile softened. “You got something to look forward to now, huh?”

You nodded as you wrapped your arms around Noah’s neck slowly, pulling him down into a kiss. 

“You better get us a good view.” You whispered against his lips, and he smiled.

“Only the best for you, sweetheart.”

… 

The trip home was too simple, too easy, you were waiting the entire time for something bad to happen- you flight to be delayed, bags to be lost- but no. It went perfectly. 

You slept most of the flight back, your head on Noah’s shoulder, his arm around you as he read his book. You didn’t have to wait too long to collect your luggage either, and before you knew it, you were sitting in the back of a car, on your way back to your apartment. 

However, this was where it would all change. 

Noah, as usual, refused to let you carry anything. You stepped out of the car and he was already lifting suitcases and grabbing bags. He had parked his car at your place before leaving, so he took his things first, throwing them into the back, before picking your bags back up and making his way up to your apartment. 

“How are you not struggling?” You laughed as he juggled everything. 

“I don’t lift weights for nothing, y'know.” He smirked as you dug through one of your bags for your keys. 

You unlocked the door, and the moment you pushed it open… Noah frowned. You were too busy shrugging off and hanging up your jacket to notice, but the further he walked in…

“Does it usually smell damp in here?” Noah asked, his brows slightly furrowed. 

Immediately, your stomach dropped. Because now he said it, you could smell it too- a stale, damp smell lingering in the air. Like the time your washing machine broke and started leaking while you were at work. 

“No… it shouldn’t.” You said quietly, suddenly panicked. 

Carefully, Noah set your bags down by the wall. 

“Stay there a second.” He said, before walking further into your apartment. 

The living room looked fine, but as he walked into the kitchen, his heart stopped. He called your name, and you followed him down the hallway, the smell getting stronger with each step. 

“What is it?” You asked, but when you spotted him, he was staring up at the ceiling in silence. 

Your heart started racing. The ceiling was stained brown, the paint bubbling in some spots, and in the corner by the wall it was slightly sagging. There were water marks running down the wall, water soaking the counters- 

“What the fuck…” You said in disbelief, taking a step forward. 

“Careful.” Noah reached out, catching your arm. 

Then you looked down. The floor was soaked. 

This had happened here once before, but not to this extreme. Your upstairs neighbour has had quite a few plumbing problems in the time you’ve been here. Thankfully last time you caught it in time before it could get any worse, but you remembered they were currently on vacation in Spain, and you had been gone for four days. There had been nobody to catch it this time. 

“Is that your bathroom?” Noah asked, nodding towards the door. 

“Yeah.” You said as you followed him towards it… 

It was even worse than you could’ve imagined. Paint was peeling, part of the ceiling had bowed downwards, water dripping onto the closed toilet lid. 

You wrapped your arms around yourself, suddenly feeling cold and stressed and overwhelmed. This was your safe space, your little apartment, the place you’d been looking forward to returning to after your trip. But it didn’t feel like yours like this. 

“Should we check the bedroom?” Noah asked carefully. 

You didn’t want to. You wanted to leave that door shut and pretend it couldn’t possibly be any worse… but you knew it was going to be bad. So you followed him again, and slowly pushed the door open. 

“Oh...” You said quietly, your heart sinking.

This room was the worst. Part of the ceiling above one side of your bed had collapsed, plaster and insulation all over your floor and bed. The wall closest to the bathroom was soaked, wallpaper peeling away from the wall, and your bedside table was ruined. The lamp sitting on it was tilted awkwardly beneath the fallen debris. 

What the hell had happened upstairs to cause this?

You just stood there, staring at it. Trying to process it. It was like all the excitement of Paris, the shopping, the laughter, the dinners, the joy you had felt, it had all been left on the other side of the ocean. 

Noah took a careful step closer, and after a moment, you felt his hand slide into yours. Your fingers wrapped around his, and then you looked down at them… then back up at him. Your vision started to blur, not because of your home, but because everything had been so perfect… it seemed the universe always hated you having nice things. 

“We'll sort this.” Noah said, his voice calm and firm, the tone he used all weekend whenever your mind started to run away with itself.

“But-”

Noah shook his head, cutting you off. 

“Call your landlord.” He said, and you nodded your head, “I’ll get some photos of it for you.” 

You nodded your head, swallowing hard as you reached into your pocket for your phone. 

“Then you come home with me.” 

Your head shot up.

“Noah, you've just spent all weekend with me!” You laughed in disbelief. 

But his expression didn’t change. 

“And…?”

You folded your arms, staring at him. 

“I dunno. You’ve probably had enough of me.” 

Yeah, that earned you a look. One that told you he’d found what you said ridiculous. 

“So where else are you gonna stay?” He asked, folding his own arms. 

“...I’ll figure something out. I’ll stay with Tom.” 

“Yeah?”

You paused for a moment, remembering what he had told you last week. 

“...Or I would. If his sister wasn’t there.”

Noah let out a chuckle as you dropped your head into your hands. He reached out, sliding an arm around your shoulder and pulling you into him. 

“Grab some more clothes or whatever you need, I’ll get some photos of the damage to send to your landlord.” He pulled back to look at your face, “Then I’m taking you home. No arguments.” 

You let out a long sigh. You didn’t want him to feel obliged, like he had to take you in out of guilt or politeness. But a part of you knew it wasn’t that way. He just wanted to make sure you’re okay, to look after you and make things easier. 

“I know what you’re thinking. Stop worrying about being a burden.” He said quietly as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “I want you to come home with me.”

"Okay." You said finally, earning a smile from him.

…

You spent the next hour frantically packing and waiting for your landlord to pick up the phone. Noah took photos of everything for you- the kitchen, the bathroom, the bedroom, the ceilings and the water damage creeping down the walls. Every time you thought he’d finished, he’d find something else that needed documenting.

Your landlord sounded horrified when he finally picked up. Apparently your upstairs neighbour had been impossible to contact for the last few days, and there had been concerns about a leak for a while now, after several complaints were made about a damp smell coming from their floor. But nobody had realised quite how bad it was. 

By the time the call ended, you were told someone would be coming out tomorrow to inspect it, insurance would be involved, and nobody could tell you how long repairs would take. Days, weeks, possibly even longer. You didn’t really hear much after that, you just knew you couldn’t stay here. So you packed some more. 

You packed things that were valuable, things that felt important. You were sure you’d be given the chance to come back and get the rest, but even Noah was telling you to take as much as you could today. He told you he had the room to store things for you if you needed. 

Though every time you added something to your bag, a voice in the back of your mind kept whispering the same thing.

You’re imposing. You’re going to outstay your welcome. You’re going to become a burden. He’s just too kind to say it to your face. 

Noah seemed to sense every single one of those thoughts without you saying a word, because when he found you standing in your bedroom staring blankly at a pile of clothes, he took the bag from your hands and started folding things himself. When you’d tried to carry your own bags back downstairs, he’d taken them too. When you’d apologised for the fifth time, he just looked at you… and that was enough to stop you mid apology. 

Now, thirty minutes later, you were pulling into Noah’s driveway. You were still blown away every time you looked at his house, it was so nice, the garden was so tidy, it was all just so perfect- and this was just the outside. 

“You okay?” Noah asked as he parked the car. 

“Mhm.” You hummed, before getting out. 

This time you insisted on helping him bring things in, since he didn’t only have your things in the car but his own too. So you grabbed his suitcase and poked your tongue out as if to say you can’t stop me and dragged it up the path. 

The moment you stepped inside, you were greeted with the homely scent of laundry detergent and whatever fancy air freshener he had plugged into the wall. You let out a long sigh as you set his bag down, because despite already going back to your place, you finally felt like you were at home. 

However, Noah wasn’t wasting any time. He carefully passed you, and headed up the stairs, carrying all the bags so easily. 

“Show off.” You chuckled under your breath. 

“I heard that.” He laughed from upstairs. 

A smile crept up on your face, and you followed him up the stairs… he had stopped just outside one of the rooms, set your bags down, and turned to look at you with a smile. 

“Right…” 

You immediately became suspicious.

“What?”

He shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Important question, would you rather stay in the guest room…” He gestured towards the door at the end of the hallway, “…or stay in here with me?”

The question caught you off guard, you didn't realise you were going to have to choose. You looked away for a moment, towards the bags, towards the floor- anywhere but him. Because the answer was embarrassingly obvious. 

You didn’t really want the guest room. Not after Paris. Not after falling asleep wrapped up in his arms. Not after waking up to sleepy kisses and coffee and his hand reaching for yours before either of you were fully awake.

The idea of sleeping alone suddenly felt strangely disappointing, and lonely… but at the same time, you didn’t want to feel like you were taking over his place suddenly. 

When you finally looked back at him, Noah’s expression softened, and he could tell what you were thinking through your hesitation.

“Why don’t we at least put your things in the guest room,” he said as he reached for your bags again, “So you’ve got your own space if you need it.” 

The words made your chest ache and feel soft both at the same time, god he was so considerate. He wasn’t pushing you one way or another, he was giving you the option, giving you a space that felt like yours, somewhere you could shut the door and sit by yourself and just breathe if you needed to. 

He pushed the door open and set the bags down by the bottom of the bed. 

“Feel free to unpack, take over the wardrobe and drawers, make it feel like home- you can even redecorate the place if you want.” He chuckled. 

“I’m not redecorating your guest room.” You smiled, “It’s lovely.” 

The room wasn’t huge, but it felt cozy. There was a big bed with fresh white sheets, a rather big dresser, and a window that overlooked the garden. It felt more like a hotel room than a spare bedroom- of course it did, everything Noah owned was unnecessarily nice. 

Noah brought the last of your bags up as you looked around, and despite yourself, you started feeling a little bit better. Sure, it wasn’t home, but you felt comfortable here already. 

“There,” Noah said as he set the last couple bags down, “And if you decide later that you want to crawl into bed with me… I won’t complain.” Noah smirked. 

You rolled your eyes. 

“Who said I want to spend another night with you?” You teased. 

“Hey, you were the one who didn’t want to come home from Paris because you’d miss me too much.”

“I never said that!” 

“Mm, you implied it, baby.” He said, his grin only widening. 

But then, before you could continue the argument, he reached out and gently squeezed your shoulder, the teasing fading a little.

“Everything’s gonna be okay, y’know.” He said, his voice a little softer. “Go unpack, take a shower- use the one in my room if you want, it’s less claustrophobic- and just make yourself at home, okay?” 

You nodded your head. 

“And what are you doing?”

“I’ll be downstairs, either in the studio or the kitchen. Just come find me when you’re done… if you want. Or take a nap, I noticed you were yawning in the car. Do whatever you want, okay baby?” He said with a kiss to your forehead before turning around and softly shutting the door behind him, leaving you standing alone in the guest room.

For a moment, you just stood there, letting the day sink in. Only this morning you were waking up in his arms in Paris, and although you didn’t really want to come home, you didn’t consider that you may not even have your own home to come back to. 

So you unpacked a few things until you found the bag of toiletries you took to Paris, then you grabbed a clean pair of pyjamas and stepped out of the room. Then your eyes drifted down the hallway, towards his bedroom. 

He told you to use his shower, though it felt a little weird… either way, curiosity for the better of you, and you pushed the door open. 

Immediately, you noticed his room felt very Noah. Not because it was particularly extravagant, but actually the opposite. It was clean and tidy without feeling sterile, comfortable without feeling messy. There were black curtains and dark wood furniture, a large bed with navy sheets that looked almost too inviting. In the corner of the room there was a bookshelf filled with books and little figures that you guessed were from a TV show he liked. 

A guitar rested against one wall, and on his dresser there were a couple framed photographs of what you guessed were him and his friends… except when you looked closer at the picture, you realised one of the guys in it had his face, but his hair was almost at his waist. Was that Noah? 

You just took in the room around you, and suddenly you were thinking about how this was the room he’d slept in every night while you were at home. The room he’d disappeared into after stressful days. The room he’d probably spent countless hours lying awake in, overthinking the same way you did.

For some reason, that thought made your heart feel strangely warm.

Then your attention drifted toward his bathroom.

Oh wow…

The shower alone was probably bigger than your entire bathroom at home. You shook your head and laughed quietly to yourself before stepping inside. 

You shut the door behind you, and started to undress. Then you turned the water on and waited a moment for it to warm up, and when you finally stood under it, it felt incredible. 

You definitely stayed in there longer than you meant to, letting the water wash away the unexpected stress of the day. For a little while, you managed not to think about any of it, you just stood there, feeling the hot water wash over you, letting out a long sigh. 

When you finally stepped out, you felt a lot better. You dried your hair, dried yourself and pulled on your tank top and sleep shorts, then glanced at yourself in the mirror. 

You could get used to this… 

Then you took a breath, put your things back in the guest room, and headed downstairs. The house was quiet, and you weren’t sure where to find Noah… but you could hear music coming quietly from somewhere. 

You followed the sound until you reached an open door near the back of the house. This must’ve been the studio. You knocked gently, then you heard him call out, come in. 

You pushed it open, and Noah was sitting at a large desk surrounded by screens, speakers, notebooks and so much equipment that you didn’t even know what half of it was or what it did. As you shut the door behind you, he looked over at you, and a smile crept up on his lips. 

“Hi, baby.”

Fuck, the way he’s been speaking to you lately had been making you feel a little weak in the knees. 

“What are you working on?” You asked as you stepped closer to him. 

“I’ve been trying to get the pitch right on a certain part, I got an idea for it yesterday that I wanted to try, so I told myself I’d try it out as soon as I got back… but it’s still not working.”

You gave a sympathetic smile, and then you noticed his eyes slowly travelling over you, taking you in. 

“Feeling better?” He asked. 

“A little.” You nodded. 

“Good.” Then he held one arm out toward you. “Come here.”

You smiled.

“What?”

“Come here.”

You closed the space, and before you could even ask what he wanted, Noah gently caught your hand and guided you toward him. Then patted his thigh, and your cheeks suddenly warmed. 

“You have chairs.” You pointed out. 

“I know.” 

You tried not to smile, but completely failed. You didn’t even attempt to argue, because quite frankly his lap looked rather inviting. So you carefully settled onto his lap, your legs either side of him, and you felt Noah wrap an arm around your waist. You moved about slightly until you were comfortable, then buried your face in his neck, breathing him in.

Noah and you both let out a content little sound.

“There.” He said quietly, his chin resting gently on the top of your shoulder, one hand holding you tightly, the other navigating whatever project was open on his screen. 

Neither of you said much for a while, you just sat there, letting your eyes fall shut, feeling more at peace than ever before, listening to the music softly playing through the studio speakers, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath your chest. After everything that had happened today, this was just what you needed.

Eventually though, Noah glanced at you.

“Comfortable?”

You nodded against his shoulder.

“Mhm.” You hummed, not even bothering to open your eyes. 

A small smile appeared on his face.

“Good.”

And as his arm tightened around your waist, you realised you hadn’t thought about your apartment in at least ten minutes. Which, considering the day you’d had, was probably Noah’s goal all along.

Every now and then, he’d reach for the mouse, or his hand would leave you so he could type something on the keyboard- but other than that, he barely moved. It felt so comfortable, so safe, so nice.

But after a while, your mouth started feeling a little dry. You remembered you’d barely drank anything all day, so you softly wriggled a little and lifted your head from his shoulder. 

“Noah?”

“Mm?”

“Can I get a drink?”

You were more than prepared to get up yourself, expecting him to point you towards the kitchen and tell you where the glasses were, maybe explain where he kept things. But instead, he lifted his brows and gently moved you from his lap to the sofa beside him. 

“‘Course, what do you want, baby?”

A smile tugged at your lips, because of course he wouldn’t let you get up to get it yourself. You were starting to learn these things about him. 

“Just water, please.” You said, looking up at him through your lashes. 

He nodded his head, then leaned down to press a quick kiss to your forehead. 

“Good girl,” he said, casually and quietly, “Such good manners.”

The words had left his mouth so easily that for a moment you weren’t entirely sure you had heard him right… especially since Noah seemed so oblivious to what he had just done, to the effect his words had on you as he disappeared off into the kitchen. 

Meanwhile you were left there in the studio, your brain unable to function properly. It wasn’t even that nobody had ever complimented you before, that was a total lie, but this just felt different. The approval in his voice almost made your head spin, you felt all warm and fuzzy inside in a way you couldn’t quite explain. But there was one thing you knew for certain. 

You liked it. A lot. 

A few minutes later, Noah returned carrying a glass of water, and the moment he walked back into the room, he noticed the look on your face.

“You alright there?” He smirked. 

You blinked.

“Hm?”

“Exactly.” A laugh escaped him as he handed you the glass. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

You quickly took the water, ignoring his comment. 

“Thank you.”

“And there they are again.”

You looked up.

“What?”

“Your manners.” A grin spread across his face. “I like them.”

Your cheeks immediately felt warmer, and you swallowed hard before saying,

“Most people have manners.” 

“True.” He settled back into his chair. “But yours are particularly cute.”

You nearly choked on your water, and Noah’s eyes widened as he spun his chair around to face you. 

“Hey.” He immediately reached over to pat your back. “You okay?”

You nodded too quickly.

“Mhm.”

“You sure?”

“Yep.” You said, popping the p, trying to act casual.

The concern slowly faded from his face, and to make things even worse, it was replaced by amusement. 

“You’re acting weird.”

“No I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

You deliberately focused on taking another sip of water, and Noah just watched you for a moment… then he slowly narrowed his eyes.

“Oh…”

Your stomach dropped.

“What?”

A smirk started forming on his lips. 

“What?” You repeated, but his smile only widened.

“You’ve gone shy.” 

“I’ve not.”

“You have.”

“Noah-”

“Baby.” The grin was fully there now. “Wanna tell me what’s got you so flustered?”

You didn’t answer that, but you didn’t need to. You knew he already knew. 

“Wanna be a good girl and tell me why you’re blushing?”

“I’m-” You went to speak but immediately stumbled on your words, making you feel even more shy, and making his grin even more smug. 

Oh yeah. The bastard knew exactly what he was doing. 

…

At some point later in the evening, you’d ended up back in Noah’s lap again. Neither of you said anything about it, you’d just gotten cold and didn’t want to go upstairs to grab a hoodie. 

You quickly learned that Noah liked to keep his house at a temperature that felt so low it should be a health hazard, and after shivering through half an hour on the sofa, you’d eventually climbed back onto his lap with a quiet complaint about freezing to death.

His response had been to laugh and wrap an arm around your waist and pull you closer, so now you were curled up against him again while he worked, listening to the soft click of his mouse and the occasional tap of his keyboard.

It was comfortable- he was comfortable, so much that you felt yourself relax in his arms. So comfortable that a yawn escaped you… 

Followed shortly by another, which made Noah glance at you with a small smile. 

“Tired?”

You shook your head.

“Nuh-uh.”

Noah chuckled, knowing that was clearly a lie, and went back to working. But ten minutes later another yawn escaped, a longer one this time. Noah looked at you again, at some point his hand had slid up your top, and his thumb rubbed back and forth against your skin. 

“You wanna go to bed, baby?” He asked. 

The question was casual and gentle, like he was asking you whether you wanted another glass of water… but you didn’t think of it like that. Your stomach sank, because your brain always worked against you, and it was now telling you this was his way of telling you he wanted his space. You’ve been practically attached to him all evening, this was just him being polite. 

However, the logical part of you knew that was ridiculous, Noah had been nothing but kind to you all day. But it was easier to believe you’d overstayed your welcome than believe somebody genuinely wanted you around all the time…

“Yeah, probably.” You said, followed by another yawn. 

He smiled softly.

“Okay.” He said, but then returned his attention to the screen.

Which told you this wasn’t a big deal to him, he was thinking about it half as much as you were. You’d somehow convinced yourself he’d finally had enough of holding you in his lap all day like a clingy little koala, when all he was doing was waiting for whatever he was working on to save before shutting down his computer. 

But still, you carefully climbed off his lap, and you immediately felt how cold the room really was again.

“Night.” You said softly.

Noah looked up.

“Night?”

You nodded before picking up your water, leaving the room, and heading upstairs. 

You were trying not to feel disappointed, not to feel silly, because you had your own room here- a lovely, comfortable, cozy room- which if it wasn’t for him you could’ve been spending the night on Tom’s couch. 

So there was absolutely no reason for your chest to ache as you walked in, no reason for you to miss him while you brushed your teeth, no reason to stare at the empty side of the bed after climbing in. 

And yet, you did. 

With a sigh, you rolled onto your side and pulled the covers up to your chin. You’d spent pretty much every waking moment together for the last few days, of course he’d want some time to himself. 

For a while you laid there in the silence, staring at the wall, until you heard footsteps on the stairs. You couldn’t help but listen, he must’ve wandered into his room and- stop listening, you told yourself.

You buried your face into the pillow, trying not to think about any of it. Trying not to think about the way you’ve gotten so used to falling asleep with your head on his chest, his arm around you, the sound of his heart beating beneath your ear. 

It had gone quiet again for a while, you assumed he must’ve just gone to bed. You assumed he’d be asleep within ten minutes because you had both been up for quite a while now. 

But then you heard footsteps again. Then there was a gentle knock on your door. 

“Are you still awake?”

“...Maybe?”

“Can I come in.”

“Yeah.” 

The handle turned, and there stood Noah- fresh from the shower, dark hair still damp, grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips and a black tshirt that fit like it was made just for him. For a moment, he just looked at you lying there in bed, then the corner of his mouth lifted. 

“I was wondering where you’d disappeared to.” 

Your tummy did a stupid flip at that. 

“What?”

“It’s fine if you want your own bed, baby.” He said, his voice as gentle and easy as ever, “But you do know mine’s comfier, right?”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmhm.” Noah nodded, “Wanna test it for yourself if you don’t believe me?”

You couldn’t help but scoff. Of course he’d find a way to make you feel better in less than thirty seconds. 

But then your smile slightly faded, and you looked down at the bed again. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, sensing the shift. 

“I thought you wanted some space. I’ve been clung to you all evening.” You admitted quietly, and for a moment Noah was silent. Until he let out a soft sigh. 

“Baby,” he said, making you look up at him again, “If I want space, I’ll tell you, okay? I promise. You don’t ever have to assume, or guess what I’m thinking.” 

It was your turn to sigh now, because the truth was, you spent so much of your life trying to anticipate what people wanted from you before they had to ask. Having to guess what people were feeling, trying to read body language and trying to sense what they were thinking through their tone of voice. 

Noah seemed to understand that without you ever having to explain it.

“Look at me.” 

You met his eyes again. 

“What did I actually say when we were in the studio?”

“You asked if I wanted to go to bed.” 

“Right. And did I say I wanted you to leave? Did I say you were being too much?”

“...No.” 

“Then don’t put words in my mouth, baby. If something is ever a problem, I will tell you.” He said with a soft smile, before holding his hand out to you. “Come on.” 

You looked at his hand, then at him. Then you sat up. 

“You really want me in your bed?”

Noah laughed.

“Sweetheart.” The way he said it made your stomach flutter. “I wouldn’t be in here trying to persuade you if I didn’t.”

You couldn’t really argue with that.

A smile tugged at your lips as you took his hand, and the moment your fingers slipped into his, he gently helped you out of bed. His thumb brushed across your knuckles once before he started leading you towards the door, then down the hallway to his bedroom. 

As he pushed the door open and led you in, you were a little taken back by how cozy it suddenly felt. The curtains were closed, the lamp by the side of his bed made the room glow golden and the smell of his shower gel lingered from the bathroom. 

Noah got into bed first, and pulled the covers back for you, patting the mattress. You chuckled and got in too, and right away you realised he’d been right. The mattress was like a cloud, and the pillows were even nicer than the ones in the hotel in Paris. It put your bed to shame, that was for sure. 

Noah opened an arm, and you rolled towards him, tucking yourself into his chest. Noah made a little pleased sound before wrapping both his arms around you and kissing the top of your head. 

“And I thought I was being the clingy one.” You teased softly, and Noah chuckled. 

“Mm, no.” He said, pressing another kiss on your forehead this time and holding you tighter. 

Then your temple, then your cheek. You tilted your head up, looking at him with sleepy eyes as you let out a little giggle. 

“Noah!” 

“What?”

“You’re proving my point.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said with a small smirk before kissing you again, before finally stopping, and just holding you there like that. “Wanna watch a movie or something? Or d’ya wanna just go to sleep? It’s been a long day.” 

You hummed in thought, just listening to the sound of his heartbeat for a moment before looking up at him again with wide, almost frightened eyes.

“Shit... I forgot I’ve got work tomorrow.” 

“Oh yeah?”

You groaned and buried your face back into his chest. 

“You know, you can always-”

“No. I’m not quitting my job, Noah. It’d drive me insane.” 

You felt his chest vibrate as he let out a quiet laugh. But then he was quiet for a moment, his fingers gently running through your hair. 

“Want me to take you?”

You looked up at him again. 

“You don’t have to.” 

“I know.” 

“You’ll have to get up early.” 

“I know. And I don’t care. What time do you need to get there?”

“...Eight.” 

“And what time do you need picking up after?”

“Noah, you don’t have to-” 

“What time, baby?”

You sighed. 

“We shut at six tomorrow.” 

Noah nodded his head, then kissed your forehead again. 

“Okay.” 

“...Are you sure that’s okay.” 

Noah let out a sigh, then before you knew it, he was taking your face in both his hands. He wasn’t rough, but he was firm, making sure you couldn’t immediately look away. 

“Sweetheart…” His thumbs brushed softly across your cheeks.

“What?”

“What were we talking about five minutes ago?”

You groaned, trying to look away, but he stopped you.

“No,” he said softly, “What did I say?”

“You said if something was a problem then you’d tell me.” 

“Good girl.” He said simply, a smile tugging on his lips, completely oblivious to the way those two little words make your head spin. 

Or maybe he did realise?

He leaned forward just a little, his nose bumping yours, his lips just brushing yours without kissing you. 

“Are you done worrying for tonight?”

You smiled against his lips despite yourself, and gently nodded your head. 

“Yes sir.” You whispered teasingly. 

You felt Noah smile back, before pressing a slow kiss to your lips. Then he pulled back, and pulled the covers a little higher over the both of you before reaching over to turn the lamp off. 

You made yourself comfy on his chest, and he held you close, letting out a soft sigh of relief as his free hand rested behind his head. 

“Goodnight, Noah.” You whispered as you let your eyes finally shut. 

“Sweet dreams, princess.” 

・┈・୨୧・┈・

i desperately need you guys's opinions on something real quick, i feel like i've been soft launching a dom/sub relationship for these two and i want to know if that's something you want to see in this story or not 🤭 i'd love to write it, but it's not something you're interested in then i won't! i know the majority will say yes, but i'm literally velvet!reader i need reassurance that this is a good idea lmao 😭

taglist: @lowergroundfloor @mrslumi @mapsychoticimagination @meddleabout2 @astronoids @pipidoll @bartxnhood @dominuslunae @stardustsirenmelody @haileebluee @curse-bearing-hips @vintagemisery---blog @noahsstrawberry @shuiguans @fadingintothegrey @mushrumink @hayleylatour @death-ofpeace-ofmind @r3prise @novainpolaroids @eclipseeetop @leosunshine @miss570 @ami-gami @sleepycactus-omens @innerconnoisseurhologram @theservantbones @my-perfect-weapon @bassvivz @sullyselena @iamnotyourstoperceive @givemesomethingbeautiful @itsfarbettertolearn @enbytarin @overmydeadbodysblog @yabagoobieberg @museonfilm @wormm-mom @bridemassacre @lifeirreverent @montgomery-929496 @dead-astrid @gayfiretruck @death-core-fairy @icybansheesoul @acatatonicpeace

He was everywhere. He was nowhere. One moment he was there, solid, warm and breathing. One moment he was gone. But he was all around you. He was in the dirty laundry you couldn’t get yourself to wash, in the half empty cup of coffee on the living room table. He was in the crease in the sofa where he’d collapse after a long day. He was in the wilted flowers in the vase on the dining room table. He was in your skin, your hair, in your being. He was just not where you needed him to be. And he wouldn’t ever be again.

You needed him to hold you together, to gently stitch your wounds and piece you back together. Just like he had done many times before. But he couldn’t. Because he wasn’t there. He had gone from this world in an instant, leaving you with broken pieces of a shared life. 

And there you stood. In your home. In his home. The home you had shared. Alone. Rooms that were once filled with music, warmth and laughter felt hollow, unforgiving and unfamiliar. 

————

You let out a huff as you slid into the passenger seat after another failed viewing. ”We’re never gonna find the one, are we?”

Noah’s eyes crinkled slightly as he smiled at you, putting a large, warm hand on your thigh. ”Don’t give up hope yet! Our house is out there somewhere, waiting for us! We just have to find it.” 

”At this rate it feels like I might just move in with you and the boys.” 

”Jesse would love that, you know. I think he likes you more than he likes me.” 

You laughed. ”Well duh? I’m clearly the most likeable out of the two of us!” 

”You are.” 

Noah put the car in reverse, backing out of the driveway of yet another house you wouldn’t purchase. ”I’ve just got a good feeling about this next one, you know. I think it might be the one.” 

An hour later you felt your breath catch in your chest. ”Noah… there’s no way we can afford this.” you glanced up at him and continued, ”There’s absolutely no way we can afford a mid century villa in this neighbourhood.” 

The house seemed to rise naturally from the landscape, as if it had always been there. Long horizontal lines stretched beneath a gently sloping roof, walls of glass reflected the golden afternoon light. Warm cedar panels glowed against clean stone surfaces. 

”It is a bit over budget, yeah. But not by much. It’s doable.” 

”Doable..?” 

”Doable. Let’s go inside.” Noah reached for your hand, pulling you gently up the pathway to the front door. 

When you stepped inside, the space opened around you. Sunlight streamed through large windows, illuminating wood panels and natural stone. Beyond the glass, trees in the garden swayed gently in the breeze.

For the first time in months of endless viewings, you felt calm. Every surface felt warm to the touch, every corner designed to make you linger. For a moment, you simply stood there, taking it all in. It was the kind of place that instantly makes you imagine a life inside it. 

You were fixated on the walls around you, eyes widening in barely concealed glee. ”Oh Noah. It’s… it’s perfect.” Looking up at him revealed that he wasn’t looking at the house. He was looking at you, a soft smile warming his face. 

”Welcome home, baby.” 

————

It had been your home for the last year and a half. It still was, but not really. You slept in the spare bedroom, ate in the kitchen, showered in one of the bathrooms. You still hadn’t been able to sleep in your shared bed or enter his studio. 

You wanted to stay. You wanted to live in this house. In the house he had been so proud of. In the house he had bought for the two of you. You wanted to sit where he used to sit, like his crease in the sofa would bring some part of him back to you. You wanted to cook in the kitchen you had stood side by side in. But you couldn’t. He was everywhere. He was nowhere. 

And now you had to leave. You couldn’t stay. In the past few days you had put all of your own and all of your shared belongings in cardboard boxes. All of his belongings were still where he had put them. You just couldn’t bring yourself to put them away. Not by yourself. 

There was a gentle knock on the door that pulled you from your catatonic state. ”Come in.” You yelled, voice raspy. You watched them enter your home without really seeing them. Not until you felt a pair of strong arms around you did you really see them. Folio held you like he was trying to put you back together. Without being asked Noah’s chosen family started doing what you couldn’t bring yourself to do. Davis was gently sorting through some of the paperwork Noah had left behind. Jolly and Jesse were carefully folding and packing Noah’s clothes. Folio had let go of you, helping Michael and Bryan emptying the garage. You were still standing there, not knowing what to do. 

You felt a hand on your shoulder and met Nick's eyes. In all the years you had known him you had never seen him look the way he did now. You had lost the love of your life and your soulmate. And in a way, so had Nick. He glanced at the door to the room that had in so many ways been the heart of the house. Noah’s studio and office. ”Ready?” he asked. 

”No.” You whimpered, ”but I don’t think I’ll ever be.” Nick nodded, giving you a careful push in the small of your back. 

Your hand trembled on the door handle. When you pushed it down you were met with such profound stillness. The afternoon sun shone through the window, illuminating the dust dancing in the air. You felt your chest tighten. Everything in there was him. This room contained his very essence. His very soul. From the guitars on the walls, the computer on the desk, the microphone in the corner. The crumpled sheets of paper with discarded lyrics. It was just… him. This room was Noah. 

Your own sharp sob cut through the silence, making you suddenly aware that you were crying. Nick could only hold you, letting you bury your tears in his shirt. One of his warm hands splayed over your shoulder blades, the other cupped the back of your head. 

Slowly but surely the others quietly piled in. They disassembled the studio in silence whilst Nick held your sobbing form. Their own sorrow and grief gathered in their eyes, falling down their faces as they worked. Neither of them bothered to wipe their tears away. You knew they were doing their best to keep themselves together for you. 

Jolly opened a drawer in the desk, expecting to find a bunch of guitar picks, cables and pens. He didn’t expect to find an envelope with your name on it. His voice shook slightly as he said your name. You lifted your head from Nicks chest to see Jolly holding out a letter to you. You took it from him with trembling hands. It had your name on it. In Noah’s handwriting. You felt seven pairs of eyes on you as you opened it. 

”My love,

Right now you’re getting ready for our date, completely unaware of what’s about to happen.

I can hear you singing from upstairs. You’re doing that thing where you only remember half the lyrics and confidently make up the rest. Every now and then I hear a drawer slam and I know you’re running late, even though you’ve been getting ready for over an hour.

And I am terrified.

Not because I don’t know if I love you. God, I know that.

I’m terrified because in a few hours I’m going to ask you to spend the rest of your life with me.

Maybe by the time you’re reading this we’ll already be married. That’s the plan, anyway.

If that’s true, then I have questions.

How was the wedding?

Did you cry?

Did I cry?

Actually, don’t answer that. We both know I cried.

What did your dress look like? Was it the one you swore you didn’t want and then ended up loving anyway?

Did I wear a tie or a bow tie? I’m hoping you’ll talk me out of the bow tie if I try to get clever.

Are we in our house while you’re reading this? Is there a dog sleeping somewhere nearby? Did you finally convince me to let you get two?

Most importantly, are we happy?

I hope we are.

Not because life is perfect, but because we’re together. Because after all the years and all the versions of my life that existed before you, I still can’t quite believe I found you.

If everything went according to plan, then tonight was the beginning of the rest of our lives.

And if you’re reading this after we’ve said “I do”, then there’s only one thing left to say:

Thank you for saying yes.

I love you.

I’ll love you tomorrow, and next year, and every year after that.

Forever sounds like a long time, but with you it still doesn’t seem long enough.

Love,

Your Noah”

You read it and read it again. And again. Your tears fell thick and fast from your cheeks, landing on the paper in your hands; slightly smudging some of the words. Some of his words. 

You barely manage to whisper ”I need a few minutes” before exiting the room. Noah had written the letter you now held in your hands only seven months ago, on what had been the happiest day of your life. 

————

”Please.” 

Noah is on one knee in front of you. In his hands he’s holding a small, midnight blue velvet box. The fairy lights reflected and danced in the diamond. The ring was simple, sleek and with a diamond large enough to make you feel a bit light headed. 

You had suspected that something was happening the whole day. You just hadn’t let yourself imagine this. Noah had been unusually quiet the whole day. He had been twitchy, almost jumpy. He had taken you to your favorite restaurant. Your tall boyfriend, who could easily wolf down both his and your food, had mostly moved his food around the plate. One leg continuously bouncing up and down. ”Noah, baby, what’s up? You seem… not yourself.” 

”Oh… I just have a lot on my mind.” 

You tried to push. ”Like what?” 

”Nothing important baby.” he reached over the table, taking your hand in his, offering an apologetic smile. ”I’m sorry. I just… got a bit lost in my head.” 

He looked calmer, and probably could’ve fooled anyone. But not you. You noticed the shallow breathing and the pearls of sweat glistening in his hairline. 

Noah was panicking inside. He had this night perfectly planned out in his head, and now his nerves seemed to get the better of him. Dinner at your favourite restaurant. A walk in the nearby park. Him falling to one knee in the gazebo by the lake. The gazebo Jesse and Jolly had spent hours not only guarding so that no one could get in the way, but also decorating with fairy lights and candles. And now Noah was about to ruin the whole night just because he couldn’t control his nerves. He was sure he wouldn’t get a single word out even though he had practiced his speech for weeks. 

And now, there he was, on one knee in front of you in the warmly illuminated gazebo. His words failed him. Your eyes opened wide with surprise, delicate hands covering your slightly opened mouth. A breeze drifted through the evening air, teasing loose strands of your curled hair. For a moment, Noah found himself irrationally jealous of the wind and the ease with which it touched you. 

He wanted to tell you how much he loved you. How much you changed his life. How just your presence grounded him. How beautiful you were. How pretty you looked. How he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. How he wanted to ease all your pain, worries and fears until his last breath. But he couldn’t. The only word he managed was a choked ”please”. 

”Oh my god Noah…” you whispered. 

”Please. Please marry me.” 

Tears blurred your vision, breaking the evening light into glowing amber orbs. Beyond them stood Noah on one knee, blurred and golden, already looking like a memory.

”Yes!!! Yes of course I’ll marry you!!!” 

Noah exhaled loudly and for the first time that day he felt his shoulders relaxing. He stood, wrapping you in his arms. Looking down at you with a single tear running down his face, his lips captured yours in a kiss that said more than he ever could. Taking one step back he took your left hand in his own, large tattooed one. He slipped the ring on your ring finger. You looked at it. You couldn’t quite believe your eyes. You were now his fiancée. 

“I had a whole speech, you know.”

“I know.”

“It was really good.”

“I’m sure it was.”

“I forgot every single word.”

————

You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know where to go. Your heart felt like it was exploding in your chest. He had written you a letter. A letter that, unbeknownst to yourself, you were now crumpling in your hand. He was gone. Forever. He had loved you. You had loved him. You loved him. You’d always love him. But that love now had nowhere to go. He was gone, but the love wasn’t. 

Your pace quickened. You had to get out of the house. It felt like the walls were closing in around you. You slid the back door open. The afternoon sun felt warm on your skin, an unwelcome reminder that the world has kept spinning even after Noah was gone from it. You fell to your knees in the dry grass. A sob escaped your lips, one shaking hand trying to stifle the sound. The house was quiet. The men still standing in the studio looked at each other, unsure what to do. The scream that left you was born somewhere deep inside, from a place grief had hollowed out. It tore through the house like a living thing, sharp enough to make everyone freeze where they stood.

In the letter he had asked if he’d worn a tie or a bow tie at your wedding. You remembered standing in a funeral home, having to choose what he would be buried in. You hadn’t helped him choose what to wear for your wedding. You’d helped choose what he would be laid to rest in.

And now he was in every room. He was in every memory. He was in every plan you never got to make. He was everywhere. And he was nowhere.