Assorted Imagines

The Party

When I saw him from across the room at the party, my heart dropped from sheer nervousness and remembering the pain he put me through. I resented him for it, and I had hoped to just continue pretending like he doesn't exist, but there he was. Beautiful and cocky, lounging on the couch, drink in hand, blonde hair falling perfectly into his eyes. Ugh, I hated him. 

Tyler and I had... had something at the beginning of the summer. Around the time we both graduated, he started showing some strange signs of interest in me that no one had expected. Tyler and I had been friends from school for years, but had only grown close our senior year of high school. And when he started being more affectionate with me to the point where my girlfriends noticed and thought I was hiding a secret relationship with him, I realized that even though the two of us were headed in different directions for college, I couldn't help the fact that I cared deeply for him. As cocky and rude and clueless as he could be at times. And as we continued to develop a private friendship, I began to see that he cared for me, too. 

It was the simplest of things... his hand on my lower back as we walked through Sarah's graduation party. Him standing so close to me that I could feel his breath on my face as he smirked down at me, just enjoying my reaction to the closeness. Him fiddling with my fingers. Us squished together on Elena's couch or sharing Chloe's beanbag. Him telling me I Iooked good in those jeans. Him leaving the party with me and walking me to my car. It was the "I haven't really told anyone this," the "I knew you would know that," the "Please, Y/N, let me take care of it" that tipped me off. The protectiveness. He didn't want anyone to touch me. I realized that if he could be like this to me all of the time, I would be the happiest girlfriend in the world. He was a dream when he lowered his walls for me and showed a soft, physically affectionate, vulnerable side to himself. Tyler, the class asshole, was kind and open to me. He would stand close enough to have our elbows touching; I think he just liked being close to me and touching me to show me that I meant something to him. 

Unfortunately but not completely unexpectedly, that was short-lived. Tyler left for vacation shortly after this realization, and despite my attempts to keep in touch with him, he didn't return my calls. His replies to my texts were dry and even rude. He was turning back into the Tyler I remembered from before the spring had come and made him kind. He was turning back into rude, asshole, frat boy Tyler. Eventually, July loped lazily into view and after one particularly snippy response to my message, I left Tyler on opened. If he couldn't respect my friendship, he couldn't have it. 

 I think I assumed he would eventually text me to ask me how I was. Or what I was up to. Or when I was leaving for college. Or maybe, at least, goodbye before I left. Anything. But he never did. He faded into the autumn light and I left the state for college, leaving him behind, but not the memory of his hand on my back. I could still feel it... the burning imprint of his long fingers splayed over my spine. It still hurt. It still burns now. 

I had even tried to snap him again over Thanksgiving break when we were both back in town. This time, he left me on opened. 

And now there he was, at Jordan's New Year's Party. There was no avoiding each other now. I stuck with my two closest friends and tried to pretend he wasn't there. But as the evening continued and people got more comfortable (or maybe just more drunk) I was pulled over to the seating area where he was and dropped down into the chair across from him for a game of Truth or Dare. 

Our eyes met. Shockwaves went through the room... or was it just me? There were lots of things behind his eyes that I couldn't decipher. He offered a supressed, civil, closed-lipped smile, but I only pursed my lips in response and looked away. We were not on civil terms. How dare he pretend that we were still friends? I could see him in my peripheral vision still looking at me, taking in my cold reaction.