The Wanted Imagines

#imagine for @xxheather96

“You look very beautiful tonight, Heather.” Tom whispered close to her ear, teasing by biting her earlobe.

“Stop it, Parker. You know very well this is just a fake relationship to make my parents happy.”

“I know that, but why won’t we have some fun with the opportunity?”

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Heather smiled devilishly, running her warm hands over his defined abs.

He stared at her with desire burning in his brown orbs. Right when he was leaning in to finally feel her sweet lips against his’ one more time, she stepped back and commanded him to take her hand so that they would walk in to the party together.

Everything that mattered was the appearances. It was always like that, and Tom knew even though he tried and reached for her, the heart that was once so sweet and welcoming to everyone and which was responsible for him to fall in love so hardly was now part of a past that would not come back. It was all her ex-boyfriend’s fault, and he would never forgive him. Not even kicking his ass made Tom feel better, but it was already something.

A couple of months after the bad break-up that set Heather’s heart inside a dark, ice-cold shield, her parents pressured her on getting another boyfriend. They needed to keep the image of the popular girl Heather turned out to be in high school, and who best for that position than her friend since they were 5 years old and also popular, Tom Parker? It took him barely a blink of an eye to accept the “offer” he’d been made, and they started to go out together frequently, until everyone knew they were “together”.

But every time Tom attempted to make Heather feel something, she would back away, ignore him, she would curse him or even threaten to end the relationship, even though she never did because she didn’t want to hear anything coming out of her demanding parents.

It wasn’t that simple fact that made Tom so mad; it was the fact that she would often hook up with guys in parties or even in the school corridors’, instead of deliberately making out with the one that was supposed to be her boyfriend. Why was it like that? Why wouldn’t she let him touch her, caress her, love her the way she all so deserved? Was it because she knew that once she’d let him in, he would make sure wouldn’t ever get out?

Tom watched as her perfect body swayed inside of her red dress, the blood red nails on her fingertips slightly touching his own fingers, just to keep the appearances. He decided he would change that fact, and it would be in that night.

They walked over to the bar, and Heather accidentally dropped her purse, which Tom willingly bend over to pick up and once he stood straight again, she’d left.

Great, just great. How would he find her in the middle of all the mess of bodies in the dance floor?

After walking in circles for almost an hour, he decided to stop searching and just sit in some of the couches on the reserved area; she would come for her purse, eventually. What he didn’t expect was to find her making out with some senior jerk in one of the couches he’d planned on sitting over.

“Heather, may I know what the fuck is going on here?” his fists closed, the anger he was feeling causing him to shiver uncontrollably; he had to get all of that out, so his fist flew over to the guy’s nose. The guy stood up and ran away, fear in his eyes.

“I- I don’t know what to say.” Heather mumbled, fixing her red lipstick.

“You don’t know what to say? Then what do you think I put some words in your mouth? I’m sick and tired of your sick little games. I’m sick of having to swallow all the bullshit you make me go through without saying a single word, ok? I’m done. Fuck the appearances, I accepted doing this because I fell in love with the girl you were months ago, not the heartless bitch that is sitting in front of me right now.”

Her eyelids fluttered as she tried to swallow the lump that’d just come in her throat. She shouldn’t be crying. She shouldn’t show him how weak she was. Oh, fuck it. Uncontrollable sobs caused her shoulders to shake violently, and she could feel her mascara running over her face; she was definitely looking like a witch or something bad like that but she didn’t care. She always felt something else for Tom, but she never told him nor did she planned on telling, but his words just made her realize the idiot she had been ever since they got “arranged”, and she was feeling bad.

Strong arms pulled her into a hug, though, and the voice she least expected to hear filled her ears like the sweet sound of a lullaby.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean any of the words I said, ok? I’m sorry, please stop crying.” Tom mumbled, himself close to tears.

Heather cried herself to sleep. As she was drifting off, she felt Tom taking her in his arms and walking, but it wasn’t enough to get her out of unconsciousness.

*

She opened her eyes lazily, rolling over her bed and stumbling in someone.

“What are you doing here, Tom?” she asked, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

“I’m looking up to you. I needed to tell you again that I’m sorry as soon as you woke up.”

“Well, I’m up.” she lifted herself to a sitting position, staring into his eyes. She knew her make-up was ruined, but that wasn’t the time to worry about it.

“I’m sorry. I was just so angry, Heather. I genuinely love you and you have stepped on me everyday from the day we started to “go out together”. It bothers me to see you with other people, because I keep on trying to get to you but you won’t let me. Why?”

“Because I’m scared.”

“I won’t hurt you like that jackass, Heather. You shouldn’t be worrying about that.” he mumbled sincerely and Heather reached for his hand. “Can’t you just try?”

“I don’t know. How can you be sure that will work out?”

“Because I have this.” he put her hand over his chest and she felt his fast heartbeat. “I have love for you here.”

Joyful tears rolled down her cheeks and she threw herself over his arms, feeling something that she didn’t feel in a long time and whispering, “Thank you.”