𝓛𝓮𝓸𝓷 𝓚𝓮𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓭𝔂| ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇꜱ ʙᴏᴏᴋ 4

Kiss It Better| Smut| Request

AN: I received a request to write an imagine based on Kiss It Better by Rhianna. I don't know the song well, but I tried to make it an angsty yet spicy exes to lovers oneshot!
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Leon's POV: 

I grip the steering wheel tightly as I navigate the night lit streets of the city, with the window down and the cool breeze chilling my cheek, I could almost feel peaceful. Content. But not quite. I could never really be happy, not when I look across the car to the empty passenger side, no signs of my girlfriend's usual mess or remnants of our trips in the car. The aching emptiness fills me, hollowing out everything good until all that's left is loneliness, so strong and sad that tears prick my eyes, but I blink them back, knowing that crying over her won't help me. I'd only gone out to the store for something to do, I didn't really need anything I bought, but laying in the cold bed with only the memories of her was too painful for me to bear. 

It'd been weeks since Y/N and I broke up, yet somehow everything reminded me of her. The city was filled with her essence, as if everywhere I went my mind just thought of the girl who slipped through my fingers. The breakup hadn't been explosive or sudden, we'd both known it was coming, but the fact that our spark had dimmed hurt more than anything else. I tried to reassure myself she was happier, but then the envious part of me cried that she'd be better off with me. I'd take care of her better than any other man. I knew what made her laugh or cry. I could keep up with her quirks, and discover new things about her every day like a damn puzzle I never wanted to finish solving. I let out a ragged sigh, driving on autopilot as the radio switches songs. The guitar riff of Rhianna's 'Kiss It Better' begins as I stop at a red light, waiting for it to turn green. I wasn't a massive fan of pop music, but just as I tune in, some of the lyrics seem to capture my attention. 

'What are you willing to do?'

I stare at the radio as if it's some kind of fortune teller. As if some twisted divine intervention's decided to remind me of my losses. I switch the station, opting for something with a little more rock n' roll. Still, the lyrics hang in my head as the light ahead switches green. What am I willing to do? I ask myself. I'd convinced myself that mine and Y/N's relationship had failed. Game over. But was that just the easy way out? Was it really better to leave something withering to die rather than try and coax it back to life? My mind swirls and before I know it, I'm turning down the same street where Y/N and I used to live. My heart throbs as I quickly change course, grateful that the roads are empty tonight. I finally get back home, back into bed as my mind still replays those same lyrics over and over, until I finally answer the question. 

What am I willing to do? 

I'm willing to do absolutely fucking anything. 

A life without Y/N's smile or her touch was unbearable, she was more than just my girlfriend, she was my peace. My home. I shouldn't have let us give up so easily, and I know my mistakes now. I reach for my phone, hands shaking with adrenaline as I open Y/N's number and send a text. 

L: Can we meet up tomorrow, please? 

The minutes seemed to stretch on forever as I waited for a reply, I curse out loud when I realise the time, but then seconds later my girl replies. 

Y/N: OK. Our coffee shop. 10 AM.

Short and blunt, yeah, but it's not a rejection. I spend the rest of the night tossing and turning, half-formed plans and thoughts clogging up my mind until I eventually pass out. I knew I had to make it right. I had to show her that we were worth fighting for. The next morning I arrive at our regular coffee shop early, choosing a small table near the window as my eyes glue to the entrance. My knee bounces rapidly as I check my phone for new messages or cancellations, but when Y/N finally walks in just two minutes late, I can't hold back the smile that tilts my lips. My breath catches at the sight of her, dressed in a cute jacket paired with her favourite outfit. She's always been beautiful to me, but right now? She's fucking stunning. Y/N approaches me cautiously, as if unsure of me, then she sits down, arms already crossing in defensiveness.