80s Band Imagines

💙Izzy # 21- Leather and Lace

No one could understand how it happened, but it did. 

She was lace. June was the definition of the word soft. She wore pink like it was the only color in the rainbow. She was the kind of girl who didn't kill spiders but put them back outside. She was soft-spoken and fragile. June was lace.

He was leather. Izzy was the definition of the word punk. He wore leather and black like they were going out of style. He was the kind that didn't care what people thought about him. He was loud and sometimes obnoxious. Izzy was leather.

The two were an unlikely pair; one that only made sense in books. But they were happy. June says they're soulmates and Izzy claims he got lucky. Nonetheless, happy. Most of the time. Sometimes June wished he would be home more, and Izzy wanted her to come out of her shell a bit more. 

"I don't want to."
June said, pulling out a pair of pajamas.

"It's just for a few hours, baby."
Izzy soothed.

"Izzy you know how I feel about parties."
June sighed, leaning on her vanity, avoiding Izzy's gaze.

"I know, baby. But this could be good for you babe. And I'll be there the whole time. Y'know I won't leave you by yourself."
Izzy said softly, moving to stand in front of her.

"But-"

"Please, Sweetheart."
Izzy quietly pleaded, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Fine."
June grumbled.

"Thank you."
Izzy sighed.

"Don't know why you want me to go so bad."
June mumbled, moving away from Izzy's embrace and towards their bed.

"Because 'm tired of telling people you're at home. If I keep that up any longer, people will think I made you up."
Izzy tried to joke.

"Y'could just stay home with me. Then you wouldn't have to tell anyone anything at all."
June muttered, lifting the blankets from her side of the bed.

"June, please don't."
Izzy sighed, reaching for the covers on his side.

"Don't what, Izzy."
June challenged.

"Don't make me feel guilty because you don't want to go out."

"Don't make me feel guilty just because you do."
June deadpanned.

"Baby, life isn't just books and coffee. How can you expect to live and not get out?"
Izzy questioned.

"It's not me, Iz. You knew that from the first time we met. I like to stay in and watch TV; I could give a fuck about going out and getting shitfaced every night."
June snapped frustrated.

"Is that all you think of me? As some rockstar-"

"You know that to me, you are Izzy. You're Jeffrey Isbell. You've never just been some rockstar so don't you dare go there."
June cut him off.

"You're acting like that's all I am. Like 'm just some drunk that's never home-"

"You never are!"
June interrupted, tears beginning to build in her eyes.

"Baby-"
Izzy said, his gaze softening.

"No, Izzy. You think that I like waiting for you to come home? Just for you to get into bed smelling like tequila. Or to hear you bitch, moan, and complain when you're throwing up and hungover? Because I don't Izzy. I fucking hate it, but it's the only time you're home and-"

"I'm home a lot more than that."
Izzy defended, completely disregarding June's previous statements.

"Tell me the last time you were home before ten o'clock and we had time together. Not time before work, or doing things for the house. Just you and me."
June retorted.