Don't Want to Let Her Go.
Pairing; Nick/Miley, obviously.
Word count; 1,182.
Summary; It's their last night together and there are too many things that need to be said.
A/N: I don't know how this is going to turn out, but it's to hold everyone over until a good writer decides to write about the post-performance. It's kind of everywhere because I like to get more into what people are thinking in stories instead of what they're doing. Because if you know what they're thinking, you can guess what's going on. I'll stop rambling now- there's enough of that in the story- and please comment when you're done. I love feedback. (:
With how many goodbyes we had said before, you would've thought we'd get better at them. We said goodbye when I was lowered from the stage, but both of us knew we'd have other chances to say a more in depth goodbye. I was growing to just really hate that word.
I had been instructed by security to wait in my dressing room and stay there, just waiting for the concert to be over. I didn't know why I couldn't watch the rest, everyone else already knew I was there, but there were a lot of things I didn't understand about their security team, or just about their management in general..
I passed the time by playing Tetris on my cell phone, even though my body was still buzzing with the adrenaline that performing always gave me. Especially because, really, that song is my heart put into words. And to sing it in front of 45,000 people, to admit all of your feelings to them, it's a really crazy thing. Good crazy. Better crazy, because Nick was there. And it helped to know that someone was feeling the same thing as you.
I had gotten lost in my thoughts, apparently, so I jumped when there was a knock on my door. I knew it was Nick, just by the way he knocked- twice, one right after the other, because he hated odd numbers- and so I quickly pulled my hair back into a messy bun type thing, because neither of us liked the way that stylists put all of the extra gel or whatever in our hair.
I opened the door silently, letting him inside. He was still a little sweaty, but he had changed his clothes to something more comfortable, and so had I. And maybe, if you looked from a distance and squinted, we were just two normal people. Not the Miley Cyrus and Nick Jonas that everyone is obsessed with.
"So, good show?" I asked. My voice was quiet, but it still seemed loud in the silent dressing room. He had taken a seat on a chair in the corner- which was beige, and I hated that color, hated the fact that this dressing room was so not me, and we would have to say goodbye in such a foreign place- so I sat on a couch along the other wall and immediately felt too far away. Like always, it was like he sensed it, and moved to sit next to me.
"Good. Fine," he stated with a nod, and I knew that meant that he messed up, most likely just once, one little slip up, but to him, he had to be perfect, and so did everyone else, or he wasn't happy.
"Was my performance up to your standards?" I joked, just because I needed to lighten the mood. I knew that we were both dreading goodbye, and I didn't want us to be sad. We had been sad enough times.
"Of course, Miles," he said, lacing our fingers together and gently rubbing circles against my skin with his thumb. "You were perfect." Coming from him, it was a huge compliment. A blush found its way to my cheeks and I smiled softly. I could hear him lightly chuckle at my embarassment.
"You were perfect too. I mean, from what I saw you were. Before security whisked me away from everything and back here," I said, gesturing around to the the bright white walls and beige furnature that I hated so much.
"I wish you could've stayed," he said quietly, almost as if he wasn't sure if he wanted to say it out loud or not. He hated letting people know when he was insecure, and it took him a while to get used to the fact that I could just tell- a year, actually, but I won't get into that story- and I considered that an accomplishment.
"Me too," I replied, gently squeezing his hand, the gesture feeling so familiar. I hadn't realized how much I had missed it.
"We'll have to do this again some time," he said, the hopefulness in his voice breaking my heart. We both knew that he was touring the entire country, and I had this new movie that I was filming in Georgia, and we were lucky enough that I could take one day off from that. But I promised him I'd try anyway, because I would. I'd try with everything in me. This wouldn't be goodbye forever.
A silence had fallen over us, only broken when there was a knock at the door. "Miss Cyrus, your ride is waiting." I politely nodded at them, just wishing that we had forever to spend together and didn't have to just be glad that we had these short moments together.
"I guess I have to go," I said, regret filling my voice as I stood up, and so did he.
"I wish you didn't," he admitted, and I felt my eyes well up with tears. He noticed and quickly wrapped his arms around me, a hug that I returned, burying my head into his shoulder. I forced myself not to cry, focusing on keeping my breathing normal.
"It'll be okay, Miles," he said softly, his voice calming my instantly. "Call me when you land. Even if it's two in the morning, I promise I'll answer." I knew he would, because he always did. He was always there for me. And as much as he said that, as much as I believed it was true, it still wasn't the same as being there with him.
"I'll miss you," I stated, even though I knew that he already knew that.
"I'll miss you too," he said, "I'll call you. And text you. We'll make it work this time." Both of us were busier than we had been the first time, though, and I knew it was unrealistic to think that this would be a walk in the park. We would have to fight for it, but I was ready for that. We were better with handling fame, now. We could do this, but it would be work. I was willing to do anything to keep him this time. I wasn't going to screw it up again.
"I love you, Nick," I stated, pulling away from his shoulder so that our eyes met.
"Love you too, Miley," he replied, kissing my forehead before connecting our lips.
Once we had broken the kiss, I let my arms fall from their position around his torso, because I knew that if I didn't let go then, I never would've.
"I'm going to go now," I whispered, gently kissing his cheek one last time. "I promise to call when I land." With that, I walked out the door and followed a security guard out the back way to where my ride was parked. I hadn't even left the parking lot and I already missed him. So what did I do? I tweeted about it.
had an awesome time with @jonasbrothers last night! the show was so awesome :) i miss you already :(