"I have thought that you have come back lately

To take my soul away from me

'Cause when I see you, you rip my heart out

But all the same, you're not to blame

Baby, baby, I love you still

Baby, do you love me still?

'Cause I miss you, I miss you

Baby, I miss you"

✰

When Arlo woke up, Luke was gone.

As she woke up to an empty bed and his side of the sheets cold with his absence, her heart sank straight to the floor. The night before had been so monumental for them and she was beginning to see a light at the end of the tunnel.

For a good couple of minutes, she thought she'd just imagined it.

That is, until she rolled over completely and saw the note resting on the nightstand. It was almost embarrassing how fast she sat up, her lethargic brain causing her movements to be clumsy as she scrambled to pick up the note.

Lo,

I didn't want to leave. Early studio sesh for the album.

- Luke

The note was about as simple as it could get, but it made Arlo's stomach twist and a giddy smile stretch across her lips nonetheless. The words are far messier than his normal handwriting and scrawled out on the back of a receipt he must have found in his pocket, suggesting that he really had been in a rush.

It made her cheeks flush to think about him taking the time to write out a note for her when he was probably running late. He hadn't set an alarm as far as she knew, for if he had, there was no way she wouldn't have woken up to it.

With a giddy smile on her face, Arlo rolls onto her back, stretching her arms over her head as she exhales tiredly. As the morning sunlight streams in through the sheer hotel curtains and the smell of Luke lingers on her sheets, the girl feels the most normal- the most at home as she had in years.

Although, as quickly as she feels the warmth of happiness flood her chest, Arlo takes a moment to remind herself of what Luke said when he knocked on her door. "I don't trust myself being alone right now."

The brunette girl wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but it suddenly becomes clear that maybe last night was just a fix for Luke. His words and the sweet kiss he left on her head were genuine, but what if they were merely because he was vulnerable?

Instead of dwelling on that and the instant headache the thought gave her, Arlo decides to start on something she'd been meaning to do for a while.

She wanted Luke back, that was definite. But, the girl knew she couldn't just walk back into his life and expect things to be okay. It wasn't fair to him and if Arlo was going to finally throw all caution to the wind and face her fear of allowing herself to love him, she was going to do it right.

It was obvious Luke had changed.

Arlo knew that no matter the fact that he now covered himself in designer brands and a cocky attitude, Luke was scarred from their breakup. The girl couldn't imagine what it felt like to pour every ounce of your soul into someone and think they don't love you in return. She also knew that the girls and excessive alcohol he indulged in were merely a front, even if they did hurt her.

She had always been able to see him for who he really was, even when he was a grumpy teenager sitting behind the counter of his bookstore.

If Arlo was going to love him, she was going to do it with every ounce of her soul and more.

Despite the fact that her heart is steadily rising in her throat, Arlo pulls herself out of bed and begins walking over to her suitcase in the corner of the room, only to be stopped by a familiar white piece of fabric laying on the desk across the room.

Her chest aches in the best way as she picks up the t-shirt that had been on Luke's body the night before, as well as the small hand-written note next to it. She picks up the discarded pen Luke had used to write the note before unfolding the paper.

Lo,

Stop wearing that t-shirt I got when I was 18. The band on it is shitty and it has a hole in the neckline. This one is better.

Before Arlo can help it, a giggle slips past her lips. She suppresses the sound by taking her bottom lip between her teeth and quickly sliding Luke's old t-shirt over her head and replacing it with the new one that he'd left for her.

It might've been a metaphor of sorts for new beginnings regarding the two of them, but Arlo didn't want to get ahead of herself.

As the new t-shirt hangs loosely off of her shoulder and ends perfectly at the tops of her thighs, Arlo finds herself thankful that over the last few years Luke had seemed to have bulked up his chest and biceps. Not only did they look incredible, but his t-shirts fit even better than they did before.

After grabbing a drink from the mini-fridge of the hotel room, Arlo digs through her suitcase until she finds a certain poetry book, the pages frayed and the spine cracked from spending three years tucked away in a hall closet.

She curls up in the armchair by the window of the room and takes the time to crack open the window and let cool air flow through the room and send a breeze across her bare skin. Arlo hugs her knees to her chest and balances the book on top of them, a pen balanced between her teeth as she opens the book.

The last time her eyes had scanned these pages, her chest was heaving with the indescribable pain of heartbreak and she was convinced that Luke would hate her forever. It hurt so badly to read his words that she'd barely even gotten through a page of his small annotations.

On the first page is a poem about flowers and how the rain made them bloom the brightest. It was a beautiful poem and Arlo was sure the words had a deeper meaning to the author, but she thought the messily scribbled words in the margins was far more poetic.

Lo, I'm a little bit nervous to write in this book. I've never annotated the poems I read before, but after seeing you do it I think I'll come to love it. This is my first time though, so go easy on me, alright?

I used to hate the rain before I met you. It makes my hair curl up and look all messy (I don't want to hear how about how much you love curls, it's not happening, baby) and I hate how it makes my clothes stick to my skin.

But, rain is necessary for life.

I think in a way, all of the pain I went through before I met you was a rainstorm of sorts and you were the flower that grew as a result. You're certainly prettier than any flower I've ever seen, but you get the point (I hope). This is getting really fucking long and starting to not make sense, but I guess what I'm trying to say is that the rain is kind of nice when you think about how pretty the world looks after it's cleared.

You're the blooming petals at the end of the rainstorm that is my life, Lo. I want you here, with me, after every thundercloud that threatens to take me down. You, on the other side, always.

We're in a bookstore right now and your pretty legs are sitting in my lap. I keep dragging my fingertips over your calves just to watch a shiver go down your spine and I think you're catching on to me. I'm sorry for distracting you from your book, baby.

You're too tempting for me to ignore. Like a rose in a thorn bush.

We fought earlier today (we fight). It was over something stupid. You were just trying to protect me and I was being stubborn- I'm sure you remember what happened in the airport.

Anyways, it was raining when things finally boiled over between us. I was shivering in the cold like a fucking pussy, but you didn't seem to mind in the slightest as the rain soaked your skin. We argued for a little while, but in the end, we worked it out like we always do.

I kissed you in the rain while your cheeks were still flushed from yelling and suddenly my soaked clothes didn't seem so bad.

That happened only a few hours ago and now the rain has cleared and I'm sitting in a bookstore with the girl of my dreams. I want to do this with you forever, Arlo.

I know now that no matter how hard it rains, you're always going to be waiting for me on the other side.

Arlo stares at the words on the page in awe, her lips parted as she reads the annotations over and over, memorizing them. Although Luke had meant for her to read these words much sooner, she can't help but think that maybe it was fate that she read them now, three years later.

Because the words on the page single-handedly piece her back together. Suddenly, nothing seems strong enough to keep her back from loving Luke- not management, not jealous fans, not her own insecurities.

Taking a deep breath, Arlo clicks the end of the pen and brings it to the page in front of her. The black ink is a lovely contrast to the blue color Luke had written in and she finds herself smiling as their handwriting differs so much from one another.

Luke...

✰

"Can you play that riff again?" Luke asks Michael as he stands across the room from his green-eyed best friend.

"My fingers hurt." Michael pouts, sinking back even further into the couch of the studio- the same couch he'd been on for nearly two fucking hours as Luke tried to work out this song.

Luke paces back and forth, a headache forming in his temples as he forces himself to work overtime. All he really wanted to do was go back to the hotel and sneak into Arlo's room. He'd been too tired from the music video shoot to talk to her properly and he had some things he needed to get off of his chest- in private.

The curly-haired blonde had woken that morning more well-rested than he'd been in years. His heart had nearly pounded right out of his chest when he opened his blue eyes to find Arlo Abbott passed out on his chest.

It was a sight he never thought he'd see again.

He almost wished he had shed his shirt before he went to sleep, for he could feel the warmth of her body seeping through the t-shirt he wore, but he needed her closer.

Her hair was in front of her eyes, slightly messy from the familiar way in which she tended to roll around in her sleep. With slightly shaky hands Luke had pushed the hair away from her eyes, sucking in a harsh breath as his fingertips skimmed her cheek.

The blanket had been kicked down off of their bodies giving him a clear view of the way in which their legs were tangled together. Consequently, this also gave Luke a view of her thighs, more so the lack of fabric she had on them.

With only his old t-shirt on her body, Luke caught a fleeting glimpse of lace on the tan skin of her hip before he snapped his eyes away from the tempting sight. As carefully as he could without waking her, Luke tugged the blanket back over their bodies.

As much as he wished things were different, Arlo wasn't his girl anymore and she wasn't conscious to give her consent, so Luke was definitely not going to take advantage of her like that.

But, as he drags the blanket up to her chest, his hands skim the curve of her waist and he can't help but feel nostalgia flash through him. He'd spent months memorizing every inch of her body, for her skin was a beautiful poem of its own and she certainly was worth studying inside and out.

One simple touch made one thing clear to him- he still remembered everything, only this time it didn't hurt to think about the memories they made. He wanted to feel her skin properly and become reacquainted with the feel of her underneath his palms, but that could wait.

He wanted to remember how her heart worked first.

"One last time." Luke murmurs to Michael, snapping himself out of the slight daze he was in at the thought of his morning

As Michael begins playing, his fingers dancing across the familiar chords, Luke begins singing under his breath just loud enough for the two of them to hear.

"Why can't we choose our emotion? 'Cause we could feel something's broken"

Luke looks to Michael for help, his mind blanking on the same line he'd been stuck on. He'd written the lyric about how he wished he would have felt in the days leading up to the breakup

Luke was convinced he'd missed some sort of sign, for Arlo couldn't have just broken up with him without reason. There was no fucking way she could have gone from blissfully happy with him in his hotel room to confirming his worst fears in the pouring rain.

Had Luke been so foolishly in love that he'd been oblivious to the fact that their relationship was crumbling? If only he had been able to feel that something was broken, maybe he could have fixed it.

"And I can't stay without hoping, We'll never be alone, we'll never be alone, oh" Michael fills in, causing Luke's ears to perk up. He looks to his phone on the table in-between them, ensuring that it was still recording and had picked up the line.

Luke hums, filling in broken lyrics that he hadn't quite perfected as he waits for Michael to reach a certain point in the riff he'd created. The blonde begins thinking back to their conversation on the tour bus- the things he'd said to her that he didn't necessarily mean.

"Why does it feel like we're missing out? Like I'm standing behind the ?"

Luke's heart aches as he remembers the first time he'd kissed her and the way the door of the bookstore had become their own inside joke. It probably sounded stupid to anyone else and Luke can see how Michael's brows furrow at the lyrics, but Luke only really cared if one person understood.

This song was for Arlo and he wanted her to know one thing for certain-

"I just wanna get back to us, 'Cause we used to have more"

the door makes her return!!

and progress! or is it...