ivy; walker scobell imagines

everything has changed

requested by: @ averyaugustine

trigger warning: mentions of gastric acid (stomach acid for those who aren't familiar) 

summary: taytay!

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y/n's pov:

ten years ago ~

it's getting late. it's almost dinner time. you can tell because the sun has sunk past the trees. you're sitting on the swing set in your neighborhood park alone. you kick your legs in the air with no specific rhythm. you aren't tall enough for your toes to even brush the ground, so your bare feet are left dangling in the cool evening air. today was a good day. school was good, your afternoon snack was delicious, everyone was nice today. 

"do you want me to push you?" 

you turn your head to see a boy. messy blonde hair and big wide blue eyes. you kick your feet again. 

"yes, please!" 

he does. you giggle as you get higher and as soon as you're high enough that you don't need to be pushed, the boy hops onto the swing besides you and pushes himself into the air. your swings synchronize and for a couple minutes you both do nothing but stare at the sunset, painting the canvas sky in shades of golden and cerulean. your swings slow and you hear your mother call for dinner in the distance. the boy turns to you and holds out his hand.

"i'm walker." 

seven years later ~

"walker, where did you put the toothpaste," you shout from the bathroom. 

you're helping him pack. 

"uhh, probably where i left it?" you hear him call from his bedroom. 

he's leaving soon. he got a huge role, like major could-win-him-some-awards kind of role. you're so proud. you are so happy that your best friend of seven years is pursuing his dreams. and he has big dreams. it's different for you, though. it's a different kind of proud. it's the same kind of proud you felt when you were eight and watching him perform in the school plays. the same kind of proud you felt when he got his first role on that zoom call where you were hiding off screen. the same kind of proud that you feel when you help him practice lines and fight sequences and tell him that everyone will love him because if they hate him, they hate you and no one hates you. it's only been a few weeks since you came to terms with the fact that you love him. not just the friend kind of love. the secret, longing love. the hidden glances and flushed cheeks. rapid heart rates and the thoughts you hope only you can hear. you want him to stay so bad that it hurts, but you know he can't. you won't be the reason that he doesn't get to do what he loves. you will not let him stay behind for you. so you do the only thing you know how to do.

you let him go. 

present ~

it's been three years. 

three years, two months, seventeen days, not that you've been counting.

since you last saw walker. 

it's not like you haven't seen him, you watch his interviews, you like his instagram posts, you wish that he'd send you a sign. anything. a call, a text, even just a like on one of your stories. nothing but radio silence.