𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐞 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

breakeven ~ corbyn

what am i gonna to when the best part of me was always you

He lay on his bed, his head buried in the pillows, his hands covering his face and fingers woven through his hair.

He missed you, ached for you. You were always his favourite part of himself. You made him a person he was proud to be, he felt the most himself when you were around. He was so proud to call you his girlfriend. He always had a beaming smile lighting his face up when he introduced you to others.

"This is y/n," He'd start, his lips spreading. "My girlfriend." He'd always turn to you to show you just how proud he was, usually kissing your temple afterwards.

You always made him feel like he could do anything, be anyone.

"You're the best part about me, you know that?" He had asked you once, his fingers tangled in your hair, his eyes shining as they looked into yours. You had smiled bashfully, the apples of your cheeks darkening faintly into a shade of red.

"Corbyn, baby, you have no idea what you're talking about." You giggled, leaning up to kiss his nose.

Sometimes he could still feel your lips on his skin.

The thing was, he did know what he was talking about, he had always loved you more than he loved himself, and maybe that was the problem.

what am i supposed to say when i'm all choked up and you're okay

"So, how are you doing, man?" Zach asked, his face had fallen into a sympathetic smile as he stood next to Corbyn by the bar.

Him and the boys had drug Corbyn out of his house. They wanting him to feel better, get him out of the depressed hole he had dug himself into once you left. What they had not been expecting was to see you at the bar they chose.

Corbyn's eyes drifted slowly from you, smiling and laughing with the few friends you were with over to his friend. He swallowed the lump in his throat, biting his lip. "I've been better." He choked out.

Zach clapped him on the shoulder, turning Corbyn to face him. "Look, you came here to have fun and you don't need her, you have us bro."

Corbyn lifted his gaze from his shoes, throwing Zach what he hoped to be a convincing smile. "Thanks, I actually think I'm feeling better." That was a blind lie.

Zach's face lifted into a smile, "I'm glad, you gonna come dance?"

Corbyn shook his head, "Nah, I'm good for now, maybe a little later I will."

Zach punched Corbyn in the shoulder lightly. "I hope so, if not I'm gonna send Jonah to come get you."

Corbyn chuckled dryly, trying to sound encouraging.

Once Zach left Corbyn looked to you again, now laughing at something a guy had said, your hand on his chest.

Zach was wrong, Corbyn thought. I do need you.

i'm falling to pieces, yeah

"Okay," He started, staring at himself in the mirror. "You got this, you have to leave this house, at your own will." He fixed his hair with his fingers, tugging at the strands gently.

"You ready to go man? Jon wants us at the studio in fifteen." Jonah knocked on the bathroom door.

Corbyn blew some air out of his mouth, checking his appearance one last time. "Yeah, lets go."

He opened the door and stepped out, putting on the most confident face he could muster. Inside he was crumbling, he could feel all the pieces falling apart. He tightened his jaw, trying to hold himself together.