lana del rey imagines

ꨄ︎ fuck the grammys ꨄ︎

Sometimes knowing how Lana feels is... Hard. Even for you, who have been by her side for so long.

"I know I don't need one, I wanted one. I wanted the recognition just for once."

Lana speaks her words in a slightly bittersweet tone as she tosses a pair of black gloves on the nightstand. After taking off her earrings as well, she then proceeds to help you open the bed.

"I'm just saying you don't need an award for people to realize how talented you are," you clarify, making the pillows to the side. "A lot of them already know, we know."

"It's not about whether I'm talented or not. I worked my ass off for years, helped build the path for other artists. I don't need awards, I deserve them," Lana says, freeing her side of the bed of pillows to open the sheets. "And it's not the award itself, it's what's behind that; the recognition, the validity of my work, which I think would feel nice to be applauded and celebrated just once."

"It is, by a lot of people. Look at the numbers in Ocean sales, the amount of streams-"

"Why bother? It's not enough, it never is."

You both open the bed sheets and begin to rearrange the pillows in their respective places. You watch Lana do such a task grumpily, almost as if she's restraining her impulse to throw one across the room.

"You're being hard on yourself for nothing. I mean, the Grammys? They lost their credibility a long time ago."

Your words make Lana furrow her brow in confusion as she looks in your direction. "They're the most important awards in the music industry."

"Yeah, maybe, but that doesn't take away the fact that they barely award the right people," you say, getting lost in thought for a moment. "I mean, they completely ignored Norman four years ago. It was easily the best album of the year candidate. And now, not only were you snubbed in the same category but you lost in the category you literally redefined, because what the hell is Boy-"

"I know you're trying to make me feel better but it's not working."

Sighing softly, you look up, and anyone who wasn't you would probably dig their own grave with the look Lana is giving you-like you're going to get hit in the face with a pillow at any moment, and not exactly in a gentle way.

"I'm sorry... I just don't want this to affect you like it did then. You tend to overthink everything and..."

Lana scoffs slightly, staring at you in disbelief.

"You know, I think you should stop talking before I start overthinking our relationship."

There it is, anger. You know the moment the word relationship enters a conversation that's mutating into discussion, anything Lana says she doesn't mean. At least not most of the time. That's not to say that some of those words haven't been on the verge of giving you a heart attack at times, especially when they revolve around the two of you.

For some reason, though, that doesn't seem to matter to you now.

"Really?" You ask in annoyance. And your anger only increases as she climbs into bed and does nothing but ignore you. "I know you're mad right now, but you know I'm right, Lana."

"I want to sleep alone tonight."

Pushing you away, her favorite.

You remain silent, watching as she lies back on her half of the bed, settling under the covers, both her beautiful black dress and makeup on still. Not good. After a moment of contemplation you come to a decision, one that could probably be the reason you get your ass kicked by your own girlfriend.

"No... I'm not goin' anywhere." You simply say, kicking off your shoes and climbing into bed with her. "This is my room too."

"Fine."

Lana grabs the pillows and with them begins to build a barrier in the middle of the bed. You sigh as you lie back and look in her direction, you can barely see her face at all.

"You're so mean...."

"Good night." She says, turning off the night lamp on her side.

The bedroom is still lit by your lamp and the moonlight pouring through the window. Everything suddenly becomes so.... Quiet. You just lie there, staring at the ceiling, wondering if there's any way to burn the Recording Academy to ashes. You want to reach for your phone on the nightstand and Tweet some nice, the nicest things about what happened. Something close to: fuck the grammys.

You have no idea how many minutes pass until you focus on the sound of Lana's breathing, which is heavy but steady. You listen to it intently for a while, until you frown slightly. She's not the kind of person who falls asleep so easily, not before tossing and turning in bed until 3 a.m.

"... Lana?" Voice doesn't rise above a whisper.

Silence.

There's no response when you softly call her name again. Glancing to your side, you find two expensive and fancy pillows covering your view. A couple of minutes later you begin to slowly move all of them to the side, disarming the barrier. You can't help but shift a little closer to her, very cautiously. Your touch is slow and gentle as you remove the black bow from her hair, leaving it on the side as well.

Afte what seems like an eternity, you finally decide to take the risk and move even closer, almost snuggling against her body. An arm wraps around her waist and lay your head on her back, listening and feeling the quiet pattern of his breathing.

"I'd give you the moon and the stars if I could...." You whisper. "I'd give you the whole damn universe..."

You can't see Lana open her eyes slightly after a while, remaining motionless in her place. She suddenly feels the need to shed a sea of tears. This day was a roller coaster of emotions and here you are, talking-whispering the sweetest things while she is supposedly sleeping.

Slowly, Lana turns toward you. Your fingers brush her bangs to the side, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. Your fingertips then gently trail down her cheek, wiping away a lone tear.

"It's so pathetic... crying over something so stupid." She whispers, her voice cracking slightly.

"Don't say that, your emotions are valid. And I'd rather you cry than not, honestly," you whisper back. "I'm sorry baby, I really am."

"Doesn't matter..."

As more tears fall, Lana wipes them away herself. And then she cuddles up against you, laying her head on your chest and enbracing you like she's never going to let you go. You comb her long hair behind her shoulder, caressing the side of her neck with delicacy. Your comfort conveys a level of peace and safety that no other person has ever made her feel before.

"Everything I need is here, with me..." Lana adds. "And that, I can't lose."

You squeeze her tighter in your arms, the warmth of your body enough to make her feel at home.

"You're never going to lose me, Lana."

"Promise?" She asks, sniffling softly.

"Of course I promise."

And as Lana falls asleep in your arms, she does so with the certainty that no matter how many losses she suffers, whether in her daily life or in her artistic career, you are the best thing she has ever won; your love, your companionship, your support and kindness, just to name a few.

And that, that nothing and no one can take away from her life.