Chris McLean Imagines

I'm Not Your Play Thing Pt 2

A/N: No one asked for it, but I wanted it so. Part 2 of I'm Not Your Play Thing! This was written with Kittenngrievous again! So, as in the previous part, Gender Neutral Reader!

     Chris spent the last three months moping in his mansion. He couldn't get his mind off (Y/N), knowing he had severely messed up any potential future he had with them. He realized shortly after his last attempt at an apology that he needed to try harder, or just...give up altogether. He wasn't sure what he could do to make it up, and express his sincerity in his apologies. He sighed, staring at his depressed form in the mirror of his bathroom. Chris had a lot of fans, messaging him and relying on him to show up to big events, more than anyone would possibly dream of, but that didn't make him feel any better, knowing how badly he messed things up with (Y/N), the love of his life. It took him 1 month to realize just how much he cared, another 2 weeks to realize how much he missed them, and another month to realize how much it was affecting him. Chris cleaned himself up, just enough to leave the house, not really wanting to put in any effort; as it had been the last month and a half. He got dressed, not bothering with the wrinkles on his shirt, threw sunglasses on to cover up the dark rings under his eyes, and decided to give it one last shot at apologizing to (Y/N). He climbed into the front seat of his car, choosing to drive and stay 'under the radar' as much as possible. He parked outside of the Hatchet residence, sitting in his car for nearly half an hour before deciding to get out and walk to the door. He stood outside the front door, nervously chewing on his lower lip and staring at the door, arm raised to knock for a few moments. However, to him it felt like an eternity.

He knocked.

Then he knocked again.

Knocking a third time, he decided to just give up and sighed, turning around and heading down the pathway back to his vehicle. He was almost to the gate when he heard the door swing open. He cringed internally and froze. The soft steps that usually accompanied (Y/N), were replaced with angry stomps.

"Why do you keep trying to talk to me? I told you to leave me alone, McLean." (Y/n) snaps at Chris, glaring at him in the most intimidating way they can, trying as hard as possible to channel the intimidating aura of their brother. Their arms were crossed over their chest, and while they looked scarier than Chris had ever seen, he couldn't help the immediate thought of how adorable they looked when angry. He wished, though, that the anger wasn't directed at him. He longed to tell (Y/N) how cute they were when they were angry; but he suppressed it.

"Because I genuinely want to fix what I messed up." Chris pleads with them, wanting to reach out and feel the textured hair of his previous partner, he was unsure of what to do with his hands. He moved them to his face and the movement of his hands knocked the sunglasses loose and revealed the evidence of a lack of sleep.

"If you really want to fix this like you say you do, then go to therapy. Get some help for your issues, and come back when you get your act together." Chris slowly nodded.

"I will, I promise." (Y/N) raised a brow in confusion.

"I doubt it." They shook their head. "But, if it gets you off my property, go nuts. Or don't, I really don't want to see you act any crazier than you already have." (Y/N) turned and walked back inside, mumbling about how insane it would be if Chris actually went to therapy, and laughed under their breath. Making it inside, they moved to the front window, watching Chris stare at the ground in front of him, still on the pathway. They watched, confused as to why he was still there, until Chris took off to his car, pulling his phone from his pocket. (Y/N) rolled their eyes, moving the curtain back into place and going to find something to watch on tv, and get their mind off of Chris McLean.