NFL Imagines

•=• Dawson Knox •=•

Title: Let the Music Play
Warnings: A breakup and mentions of drinking

(Forgive me, for I know nothing about college dorms and how they work/are set up)

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You slammed your key into the lock on the door and angrily turned it. Your drunk boyfriend was leaned against you, nearly crushing you with his weight.

"Dallas, please." You growled, trying to keep it together as you swiftly moved to shove him into your room. Luckily your roommate was having a date night with her boyfriend and you were left alone with yours.

"I'm sorry." His words came slurred and you dryly chuckled, your features sour. You closed the door and turned, your back against it.

With a shake of your head, you curled your lips into a snarl and stared him down with cold eyes. If he'd have been sober, he would have noticed the fire burning in your eyes, but he was too deep in a drunken state to even focus his eyes on you— much less remember that you were there with him.

"No you aren't. You aren't sorry." You told him. You shoved the emotional parts of you deep down and approached him. "If you were truly sorry, you would stop drinking."

He attempted to meet your gaze, but his pupils danced around, unable to focus. "It's not my fault that you don't know how to have a little fun." He retorted, beginning to sober up at the seriousness that was now filling the room.

You snorted and smiled widely at his words, but there was no joy behind your eyes. "A little fun?" You said. "Going out every night and getting wasted instead of working hard and trying to graduate isn't fun."

The next words that fell from his lips caused deep pain. They were sudden and they struck you like a snake, their bite stinging and venom poisoning your insides. You weren't ready for the strike.

"You work yourself too hard, and for what?" He threw his hands up and asked. "To fail and not succeed once you graduate? I mean, seriously Y/n, how successful do you think you'll be after college? What do you have to show?"

Heavy silence hung in the air for a long time. Tears sprung to your eyes, but they did not fall. A shaky breath in, and a shaky breath out. You stared him down with eyes full of loathing.

"Get out."

"What?"

"Get out of my damn dorm. We're done." You hissed.

The drunken boy began to laugh. And he laughed, and he laughed, until he was hunched over, arms wrapped around his stomach and tears spilling from his eyes.

When he was finally done, he wiped at his cheeks and turned to you— looking more sober than you'd ever seen him as he said, "You're nothing without me. You aren't going to go anywhere in life without me."

You snapped. "Get out!"

The door was opened and you waited in silence —anger radiating from your body— as he collected himself and walked out. You slammed the door behind him to make sure that he got the message and immediately went to rid yourself of everything that was associated with him.

You trashed his clothes, deleted every picture, blocked his number, and did everything you could to get every inch of him out of your life. He was stupid and you didn't know why you had wasted so much time on him.