Demi Lovato Imagines

Nightmare pt.2

TW

The next morning, when you woke up, Demi was gone. 

She wasn't in bed, you mean. 

Hearing some faint clattering from the kitchen, you slowly roll out of bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, and pad out the random bedroom you found yourself in hours before. 

Arriving at the door of the kitchen, you catch sight of the short girl standing by the kettle that you could hear boiling. 

"Morning."

She jumps at your words, spinning around on her heels to face you.

"H-hey," she stutters, immediately looking down to her knotted hands.  

Wanting to bypass the awkwardness of last night, 

"How are you today?"

"Fine. How are you?"

"Fine."

God, this is uncomfortable.

You stay standing there, counting the seconds as they drag past in silence. Eventually, Demi turns back to the kettle, pouring the boiling water into a mug and stirring it as she moves over to the table. 

You're still standing at the door. 

"Got any plans for today?" you ask, hoping to snap the tension.

"Uhmm, yeah I've got an appointment this afternoon...with my therapist..."

She gives you an embarrassed look as if she feels ashamed for having such an appointment. So, with your big fat mouth, you try to ease her insecurity. 

"Oh! That's cool! Is that because of what your nightmare was about last night?"

Her face drops.

"Like - are your nightmares what you need to work through? Is that what you are working on in your appointments?"

You don't know if its because you are trying to recover from the earlier stunted discourse or if its because you want to prove to her that you don't judge her for seeing a therapist...but either way - you fucked it up with your uncontrollable word-vomit.

"What?"

"You...you're nightmare last night...you were saying stuff about...well..."

"What?"

Her voice is flat now.

You gulp.

"...you were crying out at someone...telling them not to do...something."

Very quickly, you realise you made a huge mistake bringing this up. You don't even know Demi well so it's not surprising that she feels uncomfortable with you interrogating her. Not that you did it on purpose. 

"Y/n, I'd really prefer it if you didn't mention this again. It's none of your business."

And immediately, the dark tone of her voice confirms your fear that you two will not return to the closeness you shared the night before. 

"O-okay, sure, I wasn't trying to pry I was ju--"

"Morning guys," Hannah calls as she breezes into the kitchen, brushing past you at the door.

"Morning," you mumble, still a bit dejected from what Demi had said. Her sharp words cut through the frustration you were already feeling at yourself and you just wanted to cry right there and then. But then Hannah would ask what was wrong - and you would have to admit how you bombarded her childhood friend with personal questions the morning after meeting her for the first time. And you didn't need anyone else telling you how much of an idiot you were. You were already telling yourself that.