Cole Sprouse Imagines

❝That's My Girl❞

"Is that—is that a cabinet?"

"My cabinet, yes. Mom and I made a decision to sell it to the junk shop, it's very old and useless now. We want to get rid of it." She smiles at me while tapping the aged furniture beneath her.

"Why? Are there any reasons?" I raised a brow.

"I'll tell you later but for now, we have to catch up with the shop before anyone does. I want us to be their first customers."

First customers. Ha! Ridiculous.

Nothing might make sense at this moment but we have to get going.

Moving in the process, Y/N and I actually managed to carry the absurd-ass cabinet of hers. Although the shop is just ten minutes away from her house—still—my arms and shoulders are burning from the weight. Lucky for her, she's not that jaded, she got herself distracted with her talkative mouth which by chance, it didn't work for me.

"We're here." She squeaked, her grip loosening to what we're bolstering as she starts running out of my presence—leaving me all the heavy-duty.

"Argh! Sweet Mother of—ugh." I hissed, my body slumping down a little bit as I put the cabinet down.

My eyes immediately darted around the area, of course, distasteful junk and all trash are scattered everywhere, the colonial scoop gates are rusting even. The unpleasant sight got me grimacing in disguise as I went to search for Y/N. That sneaky fox.

I spotted her inches away from me, she's stood in front of what it seems to be a front desk or the claiming counter (kind of thing) as she's discussing stuff with a guy around his thirties—I can tell by the long beard and wrinkled eye bags. I decided to wait for them for a good quick minute and with that, both of their heads are nodding with a pair of handshakes in agreement. Y/N came back to me with a gleefully smile on her face.

"He said he can have it and guess what?" She announced.

"What?"

"New record, we are indeed the first visitors here." She chuckled.

I really appreciate how she's this gullible, little happy jelly bean at small things that each second, each minute, she makes everything matters. But right now, we could use some air because I'm frantically feeling the irksome growing just above my skin from all the trash I'm seeing.

"Okay, good, now let's get going," I spoke up, gladly, she follows.

Once we got the poor furniture sold, she received a very scarce of dollars and a few cents. How comical. We should be vindicating the main question I have to why it doesn't cost much but I'd rather not though, I guess that's how junk shop works, plus, she looks satisfied to what she got and that's enough.

"You're such an uneasy person, aren't you, Jug?" Y/N scoffed. She must've heard my sigh of relief—I can't help it.

"Not really." I sighed again, a little hesitant this time.

"Are you OCDic or something? I swear, if you are, we can just break up—

"I'm not, I'm not. That's literally stupid, Y/N." I huffed with an eye roll. Breakup? It's all good, she's only kidding.