catfish and the bottlemen imagines for rainy days + mondays

Can't Stand Me Now // Van

You looked back at your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes were swollen and bloodshot from the tears you were still struggling not to cry. You had that angry flush to your cheeks, wounded expression as you tried to dab at your make up and salvage it.

Your taxi would be here any minute and you didn't have time to reaply the many layers of eye shadow and liner you had already applied once that evening.

You couldn't even remember how the fight had started now, only that you were fucking fuming and bitterly upset with him. He was already waiting outside, having a cig with a sulk on. Just as upset as you were though he wouldn't show it. Hed just sit there leaning against the wall scowling into the dark empty street watching for the taxi that was on its way to pick you up for a night you'd already managed to ruin between you.

You'd both said stupid, horrible things you knew you shouldn't have said. Both cut at each other, spiteful words fired across the landing as you argued back and forth for over an hour, you in tears and him more irate by the second. Despairing cause he didn't know what to do when you got upset like that.

You cried when you were angry see, cried over everything actually, you couldn't help it. And it made it worse when you were arguing with Van because you hated how easily your emotions shone through when his just didn't. He would just scowl, frown, get wound up and walk away. Sometimes he'd slam the back door as he abandoned you for a smoke. But that was as much of his anger or his hurt as you ever got to see.

It made it worse because it made you feel like he didn't even care. When you yelled and lost your temper, when you said stupid shit about how he was never there, about how you were always left alone to deal with the house and the family, you were the one who had to remember all the birthdays and the bills. You were the one left to deal with everything whilst he fucked off on tour around the world. You were stuck at home.

Then he'd remind you why he was always away, why he had to work so hard. He'd get pissed off remind you that this was the dream. And when you were feeling particularly bitter, when the adrenaline was hot in your veins you'd snap back. "Your dream not mine," and hed leave. Unable to argue back, some snide remark as he slammed the door and left.

You hadn't even been arguing about that to begin with, you'd probably only been arguing about the dishes or something petty and meaningless like that, but it had ended in the usual cressendo and now you were left inside alone, desperately trying to fix your appearance before the second argument you'd had resurfaced.

The even more ridiculous one.

"Do we have to do this now?! We're sposed to be meeting the lads in half an hour!"

"If you hadn't wanted to do this now you shouldn't have fucking started it should you!" you'd snapped back, turning away from him, trying to rescue your make up with tissue to your eyes.

"Jesus Christ love how am I the one who started this?"

"Bloody hell Van," you'd cried, "would you leave me alone!"

"How am I meant to leave you alone when we've gotta go out in 15 minutes?"

"I don't know do I just..."

"Well do you even still want to go?"

"What kind of stupid questions that Van obviously I still want to go!"

"Well you don't sound like you wanna go!" he cried back, leaving again to go and look for his phone. "Fuck it am calling and cancelling the taxi this is ridiculous..."

"What?" you cried, sobbing as once again you gave up on the make up. Reaching for a make up wipe instead as you gripped the side of the sink for stability. Your body shaking with the upset of your argument. "Van what are you doing?" you shouted after him only for his voice to come ringing back twice as sharp and twice as agetated as yours.