.:{Imagines}:. ~ IM5

Gabe Imagine for Anon

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Helloooo dearies! Hope you guys are having a great day/night! I hope you guys enjoy this Imagine, and don't forget to check out our website ;; www.imagineim5.weebly.com ! Thanks! It means a lot!

~ Alana

***

You slammed your fist down on the table for the thousandth time, rattling your glass. A simple dinner date with Gabe had turned into a full blown war in a matter of minutes after he'd let it slip that he'd kissed his ex-girlfriend, who you didn't even know was in town, but had told him a countless amount of times to stay away from.

"Why did you lie to me?" you spat at him. "What, do you think I'm stupid?"

He puffs air into his cheeks. "Well, you arent the sharpest tool in the shed."

Your cheeks heat up, anger bubbling in your stomach. "How fucking dare you! How did you turn into such an asshole? First lying, now this?" You clutch your fork in your hand so tightly that your knuckles turn white.

He rolls his eyes. "Just chill," he demands. "At least she didn't lash out on my like you do."

That was it.

You stand up abruptly, nearly knocking your plate over. You clutch the tablecloth for dear life, praying that you would have to do anything that you'd never normally do. You take a deep breathe, trying to control your wavering voice.

"Gabriel," you hiss. "I am done. I'm done with your stupid lies, and I have been for the longest while. You don't want a girl that lashes out on you? Good. You don't have one anymore, and you can thank yourself." You huff and turn away, storming into what had been your room that you'd shared with him, leaving him in silence.

You sink against the frame of the door after locking it, letting out soft, distressed sobs. It's okay girl, you tell yourself. Soon, he won't be able to hurt you anymore.

You instantly get to work on packing up all your things in a series of bags and suitcases, purposely leaving anything that he's ever given you outside, hanging on the railing of your balcony. You clipped your charm bracelet around the rail, looking out at the city view one last time. Soon, you'd be moving back into your beat up old car until you had an idea of where to go. But, for now, this was the last time you'd ever see this gorgeous, star studded view, ever again. The memory would be carried with you wherever you went, you could just tell.

Full of pride and still-fresh rage, you march out of Gabe's apartment with a heavy heart, ignoring his apologetic pleas and tear-masked voice. You'd already heard enough of it.

"Goodbye, Gabe," you whisper. You know that he can't hear you, though. It was more so closure for yourself, and ending to your old life.

***

Days pass, weeks even, and you avoid Gabe as much as possible. You block his number, but he always seems to find a way around.

You were right when you said the memories would be carried with you where ever you went. You couldn't go shopping because you remembered Gabe complimenting you whenever you stepped out of the dressing room. You couldn't drive down to the boardwalk because that was where you met him. Everything held a memory of him, probably because he held a memory of everything. The ever lasting regret of leaving killed you everyday, and it was a wonder that you were able to keep going.

You almost decide to go back to him, one day, but you're too prideful. Instead, you sit around in your room, eating pints of icecream and watching soap operas in languages that you don't understand. It was all scripted; false love, like your own.

One afternoon, while you were in the midst of devoting yourself to a box of cookies and a Korean drama show in your rattiest pajamas, you hear a knock at the door. It was your best friend's house, so naturally, so opened the door.

After a moment, she races up the stairs, panting.

"It's Gabe," she confirms. "With flowers. A dozen, to be exact."

You groan, flipping over on your stomach, peering through your curtains. Sure enough, there was Gabe, standing awkwardly in front of the house with a bouquet of roses on his hands, clutching them so tightly that you wonder how the thorns don't cut his hands.

You flip back over an pout. "He isn't in Hell yet?" you whine.

Your friend laughs. "Apparently not." She pulls at your pajamas. "You should probably change."

You sigh, exasparated already. You change your outfit about ten times before deciding on a red sweater, a pair of light wash skinny jeans, and a pair of black boots, You apply a bit of eyeliner, mascara, and lipgloss, and trudge downstairs nervously. Was this his way of making up?

You swing open the door, greeted by the fragrance of roses. Gabe stands tall and proud, as proud as he could be when he was your ex-boyfriend.

You roll your eyes, pretending not to acknowledge the flowers.

"What do you want?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Hi to you too." He holds out the bouquet, and you snatch it harshly.

"I asked you a question," you repeat, becoming tense.

He bowed his head, surprisingly obeying. 

"I came to apologize. Look, I know I can be an asshole, but if we want to make this work, you have to hear me out and trust me. I didn't kiss her, she kissed me. I blew up on her and..." He looked up with watery eyes. "I wanted to tell you because I wanted you to trust me like I trust you."

Your heart sinks a bit as you listen to what he had to say. "B-but why did you lie about it? You said she wasn't there."

"I was scared. The last thing I want is to lose you, and I already did..."

Tears threaten your eyes. "Don't say that," you manage to choke out. You lean forward and he gathers you in the hug you've needed for the past few weeks.

"You have to start being forward with me," you mumble into his shirt.

You feel him nod, and he plants a small kiss in your hair.

"Does this mean you still love me?" he asks, hopefully.

You roll your eyes, smiling into the fabric of his shirt.

"More than anything."

***

I hope you liked your Imagine!

~ Alana