Dallon Weekes Imagines

Bittersweet

- Dallon's POV -

"Come on, Dal!" Y/N pulled at me.

"This is not a good idea to get over your ex-boyfriend quickly, Y/N."

"Wow, thanks for being a great friend, you sound like my mom," Y/N said, rolling her eyes.

"Fine, but I'm only doing this so that you won't be crawling over to your house or so that nothing bad would happen to you," I said. "It's really just because I care about you more that he did," I mumbled.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." I ran to my room and got dressed quickly. Y/N and I drove to a club. We went inside; Y/N took a shot after another, and another, and another. More than I can count, actually. And I just sat there letting her do what she wants, because she would sass me if she didn't.

"That's enough, Y/N. Let's go home," I suggested.

"No! Stop being so strict!" She swatted my hand away from her.

"Get over it, Y/N. All that hate is going to burn you up."

"Dallon, st-stop! I can... I can do whatever I want," she slurred.

Another hour had passed. Y/N finally fell asleep on the bar counter. How many drinks have she had? I should really take her home. I payed for the drinks that she consumed, and I carried her to the car. I drove her home, her sleeping in the back seat.

_____

I sighed. "Y/N, I told you we shouldn't have went to that club." I guided Y/N as we went to her apartment. I grabbed the keys to her house that she gave me and we went inside.

Y/N kissed my cheek, her arms wrapped around my neck. "Thanks, Dallykins."

"Stop calling me that." We finally got to her room. I put her on the bed, sighing once again. Y/N looked like an angel while she slept. I sat beside her, running a hand through her hair.

She suddenly stood up and ran to the bathroom. I rushed to her, holding her hair back as she threw up in the toilet.

"Thanks, Dallon," she said, hugging me.

"You're welcome, Y/N," I smiled. "I have a secret to tell you," I whispered. It's probably the best time to tell her; she's drunk so she wouldn't remember, I thought.

"I like you, Y/N. I care about you; it hurts me seeing you like this. It hurts me more than it does to you. He doesn't deserve you," I confessed.

"Y-you like me?" Y/N repeated, laughing. "How could you like me?"

"Because you're you."

A/N: Please don't be offended/butthurt if you use the pronoun "they" and I only used she. I just want everything to be grammatically correct. So, if you're going to start drama, you can go with your ass to the exit.

Thanks.