sweet things ↠ alex turner imagines

505

songs ⤻ good guy by julia jacklin, 505 by arctic monkeys

I was very mad to say the least. I had bought Arctic Monkeys' new album, Favourite Worst Nightmare, but when I got to the album's closer, I freaked out.

505.

The number screamed at my face. The same number that I saw every time I unlocked my front door. Was it all just a big coincidence? The Alex I knew didn't do coincidences, but was he still the same Alex? I wanted it all to be just a big misunderstanding. I couldn't be roped back into his life just like that. I was and still am hurt. I waited that night in my house and he didn't show up. Instead he left early for his flight without a goodbye. I tried so desperately to reach out only to receive radio silence. I couldn't keep hurting myself with waiting for a response, so I stopped asking for one.

I glanced at a piece of paper on my desk. I grabbed it alongside a pen. I wanted to write a letter to Alex before my judgement got skewed with that song. I haven't even heard it and I already had a hatred for it.

I stared at the blank sheet of paper before filling it with a labyrinth of words.

Dear Alex,

Despite you seemingly leaving me in the dust, I still love you. I'm upset yes, but I could never hate you. These past few months I've spent trying to despise you for leaving me all alone in my solitude, but I can't. I've never thought I'd hate being alone as much as I do now. Every little thing is a constant reminder that you're not by my side. I hate myself for being selfish. I want every beautiful, poetic word you've ever uttered to be about me. I want to be the person you love and admire. I know I can't force it, but it's just a distant dream of mine. I spent weeks, maybe even months, dreaming of you actually showing up that night. You had walked through the door with that shy smile of yours. We laughed and enjoyed each other's presence. Then, you held me in your arms and brushed all my worries away, just like you promised me you would. I'm sorry if I'm holding you back. I only want you blossom into your true potential. Again, I apologize for being all soppy. You always knew what to say to make me feel like I was worth something. Al, you have a way with words, don't put it to waste. Know that I'll cheer for you from afar.

love, y/n

It was as if all the words had written themselves on the paper. I sighed and went to play the song that was waiting to be heard. I sat back down and awaited the problem looming over me to vanish. The first notes rung from the CD player. It was all okay until Alex's voice soon joined the bittersweet melody.

"I'm going back to 505,
If it's a seven hour flight or a forty-five minute drive
In my imagination, you're waiting, lying on your side
With your hands between your thighs."

Instantly, a lump in my throat formed and tears pricked my eyes. By the time the song had bursted into a more urgent tune, I was sobbing. I wondered if Alex was here would he have "crumbled completely". At first I was sad and then that sadness turned to anger. Instead of attempting to give me a sign that I still mattered to him, he wrote a song that thousands, if not more, of people would listen to.

My anger seemed ridiculous at first glance, but I grew more desperate to try to understand why he would do this. Was a simple phone call so hard? Why had he been avoiding me? Was it all for show? I thought that maybe I didn't matter to him after all and this was just a way to make album sales or for listeners to think he was such a hopeless romantic.

The letter I had written was covered in teardrops. In a fit of anger, I crumbled it into a ball and threw it against the wall. I just couldn't understand why he would write a song about how he would do anything in his power to come back to me when in reality he didn't try at all. Was I meant to run back into his arms like nothing happened? I wanted him to apologize face to face, not through a song in a highly anticipated album. I put the CD back into its sleeve and put it on the shelve where it collected dust for 3 weeks.

I was a bit of a mess in that span of time. Even when I was focused on other things, that song kept playing in my head. I was surprised how vividly I remembered it when I had only listened to it once.

I walked back to my place after a long day at work at the bakery. I was humming a tune which later morphed into that damned melody. I mentally cursed at myself for even listening to it to begin with, but I knew it was going to be nagging me for the rest of my life if I didn't.

I approached my front door and was reminded of my current issue. 505. Why couldn't he have named it anything else? Hell, he could've called it after me. By now, I would have requested a legal name change.

I swung open the door and there sitting on my couch was the man I had wished to see so many nights ago. Now? Not so much. My judgement told me to step back while my instincts told me to step closer.

"What are you doing here?" I asked shock evident on my face. Damn that spare key. He stood up and tried to walk closer to me. "y/n, we need to talk."

Now he decides we need to talk? A part of me wanted an explanation, a reason to go back into his comforting arms. "Well, what do you have to say?"

He thought for a moment before answering, "I'm sorry. I know that won't cut it. I've been so bloody stupid. I let the one of the most precious things in me life slip through the cracks. I wrote songs about you. You still filled me head with your presence even when you didn't know it. I know I didn't try hard enough, I should've."

My urge to cry was strongly forming. I was afraid to speak in case my voice quivered. Instead I ran to my room.

"y/n?" Alex called out from behind me.

I uncrumpled the three week old letter. I turned around to see Alex with a pained look. I handed Alex the wrinkly paper. The words couldn't leave my mouth, so I guess my old sentiments would have to do.

Alex's eyes scanned the letter. His eyes became watery by the end. He looked up to me, "Fuck. I'm so sorry, y/n. I didn't mean for you to feel this way. I'm an idiot. A bloody coward-"

My cries silenced him. He looked alarmed before scooping me up in his arms. "Please don't cry, darlin'. Please. Hate me all you want, none of this was ever your fault."

I subconsciously leaned into his embrace. "I can't hate you, Al." I said through sobs. "You should. I had no right to make you feel that way. I'm a moron to think a song would solve months of no contact. I don't know how many sorries will be enough."

I looked up to him and wiped away his tears. "I don't want to hurt anymore. Please don't leave without an explanation again. I can't stand waiting without knowing if you're ever coming back."

He repeated my gesture and wiped away my tears too. "I'm here now. This time I'll do anything I can to keep my promise."