CAMERON MONAGHAN IMAGINES

Rooftop Adventures. (Ian)

A blank Word Document awaits the MLA format. A college essay prompt has left you stumped for weeks. "Describe a place or environment where you are perfectly content. What do you do or experience there, and why is it meaningful to you?" You don't know...a creek? Too cliche. Disneyland? You don't want to sound like a child. At home watching TV? That's self absorbed...and lazy. You tap your fingertips the tops of the keys, not pressing on any. You have a headache from writers block.

"Y/N!" Someone familiar yells and bangs on your door. You place the computer to the side of you and hop off your bed.

The stranger knocks again. "Relax! I'm on my way!" You put on pants and run down your stairs, relieved of the small break from the hell of college essay writing; or further procrastination. 

You swing the door open and run your eyes up the character.

"Y/N! Thank God." He barges in the house, pushing past you.

"Ian..." You say, after spotting a beer in his grasp.

He overlooks you calling him and walks upstairs.

"I hate everything. I hate Frank. I hate having no money. I hate the meds. And I especially hate this disease." Ian rants as he turns the corner. You join him in your room. He's sitting on your bed, sipping his beer.

"Are you on the meds right now?" You ask.

"Of course. Mickey makes me take 'em. He says I'm nuts when I don't." He speaks in monotone.

You pull your pants off, revealing your knee-high socks. It's a cozy outfit with an oversized long sleeved shirt.

"I don't mean to boss you around, but shouldn't you like...not drink then?" You suggest, taking a seat beside him on your bed.

"Because I get hammered fast now. That's the point?"

Last time Ian got hammered at your house, he vomited on your carpet. That was tough to clean up. Not to mention the amount of care you needed to do while he was either angry or crying. This is not something you desired to do again.

"Lemme take a good gulp." That's a good angle to go at. Not protective of him, but wanting your own fun. At least to him that's what it would seem like.

Ian gladly passes the beverage.

"I didn't think you would..." You stopped your sentence there.

Ian picks up on your message and explains himself "I know you don't wanna carry me to bed or bring me water, so might as well drink just enough to feel good." He smiles and you begin to chug.

You think you should drink it all before he changes his mind.

"So where are you parents?"

He questions as you finish it off. "Nice!" He remarks.

"Work trip. I'm home alone for the night." You wipe your mouth of excess beer.

"Cool. Hey, so, can I braid your hair?"

That's random. He must be getting tipsy. Okay, let's try this. You weren't going anywhere considering is 10 pm.

You give him and hair brush and sit in front of him. "You actually know how to do this?" You have low faith in his hair styling abilities.

"Nope! I mean I learned, but I'm not good. You're my practice." The sound of his voice always soothed you. Moreso, he used the brush delicately, the bristles barely ticking your scalp. This is much better than essay writing. 

After around 10 minutes, you begin to feel a little happier, slightly numb even. "Ian, you spending the night?" 

"I'm sure Fiona wouldn't mind."

 Ian has hardly ever slept over since he met Mickey. When he does come over, everything is calm and you two have relaxing nights with warm foods and tea or cocoa.

"What do you want to do with our time?" You ask. He's about halfway done with the braid. You have no idea how it looks so far. You don't expect much. Just completion.

"You plan something. I'm happy if I.." He pauses. "Feel something."

You slouch a little in thought, but straighten up when an idea comes to mind. "Let's go to the school roof!"

"Weren't you arrested the last time you went?" He laughs.

"Yes, but that's because I wasn't careful enough. When you're done with this, I'll get a ton of blankets, food, pillows. It will be great! Come on...Let's do this!" Your enthusiasm is delivered. Your parents would never allow this.

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Like partners in crime, you two work together to get on the roof. You climb first, skeptical, with a backpack on. Luckily, the ladder to get up made the commute easy. However, being spotted by neighbors or cops with the part that coursed adrenaline through you. Ian, being the second to climb was the lookout. He also held the pile the blankets.

You pull yourself over the top. You aren't safe until the other half of this operation met you.

"Blankets in 3, 2, 1." He whispers loudly. With that, he tosses the blankets up. They come close to your hands but you don't want to lean over the roof too far. They plummet to the ground.

"Try again." You command.

A faint mumbling appears in the distance.

"Shit, Ian, someone's down there with you!" You try to stay quiet. Without standing, you peer over the rooftop, combing the scene for intruders. You spot a middle-aged woman walking her dog. She's on the phone. "Ian! 2 O'clock! Hide under the blankets."

Ian laughs before hurdling himself under. It's cute because it's obvious there's a body underneath. It's heaving and twitching. Not to mention the blanket creates the outline of a human.

It's freezing up here. You fight the wind when it tries to blow you over. You clench your jaw tight to resist teeth chattering.

The woman doesn't even glance at his shield. You wait a few minutes after she's passed before you let him crawl out.

"That was so scary!" He looks up and attempt to throw the blanket again. You swiftly get the blankets in your grasp and await Ian's arrival.

You lay out the 4 puffy blankets and spot Ian who's finally joined you.

"Took you long enough." You put the pillows in their appropriate placement before crawling beneath the heavy fabric.

"I'm glad it's dark and I'm hammered because I know that braid is wretched." Ian joins you under the covers and you use the penguins tactic to get warm, where you get real close.

"It's completed. That's all I care about." You migrate your head to his chest and listen to his relaxed heart rate.

"Too bad it's foggy as hell tonight." The bass in Ian's voice soothes your ears. His vocal chords vibrate on the side of your face. 

"Yeah, probably should have checked on that."

The wind whistles and Ian's chest bobs up and down. For the first time since starting college applications, you were fully relaxed.

College apps.

Pushing boundaries, assisting your best friend, drifting away in the most tranquil of areas. This is where you are fully content. 

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A/N: Sorry, I know this one isn't great. HI! IM TALKING TO YOU! IF YOU'RE READING THIS THEN YOU SHOULD COMMENT. YOUR BEAUTIFUL FACE. YOU. ANYWAYS. Comments will really help ----> WHO DO YOU WANT ME TO WRITE NEXT? IAN, CAMERON, OR JEROME???????????

-Bambi ;)