𝓛𝓮𝓸𝓷 𝓚𝓮𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓭𝔂| ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇꜱ ʙᴏᴏᴋ 4

For Better Or Worse| Request

AN: I received a request to write an imagine based on the movie Purple Hearts. This follows the same kind of arrangement and struggles (I presume that's what was wanted) but I've changed the story since I couldn't remember the movie overly well! ♡
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The thin walls of my apartment close in on me as I slump onto the sofa, my eyes drifting to the pile of unpaid bills on the chipped coffee table. I'm barely getting by, and now after yet another medical scare last week, I'm officially overflowing in debt. I stifle myself from crying, tears won't do me any good and will probably just trigger a migraine, so I blink back the burn and let my head fall back against the cushions as I think through my options.

I could pick up more shifts at work, but I'm barely sleeping as it is. I could cut down on groceries, but I know how sick I get when I start skipping meals. Moving out isn't an option either, I've got nowhere to go. There's also the final, worst, absolute heartbreaking option; quit university and save the fees for living. My parents have told me time and time again to drop out, but I really don't want to. I'm so close to graduation, and I'm loving my studies. Dropping out would basically be admitting defeat.

I blow out a breath, I'm fed up of feeling trapped with no way out. There's no miracle coming to save me, and if I don't find a solution soon, then I'm going to lose everything I've worked so hard for. My chest tightens as I feel a panic attack beginning, so instead I stand up, shaking out the nervousness before grabbing my jacket and heading out. I'd rather be distracted than wallow in my sorrows, so I find myself heading to the bar, using the tip money from work to pay for a drink.

I sit in a secluded corner, hoping I'll be left alone. I sip on my drink, praying that the small sandwich I ate earlier is enough to keep me from getting too drunk. I people watch, deciding that escaping into other people's lives is better than analysing my own shitty deal of cards. The alcohol- if you can even call it that- slowly empties from my glass as I sip on it, the knot in my stomach loosens the more I lose myself in listening in on other people's conversations. That is, until I notice a set of piercing blue eyes on me.

I almost choke at the shock. I recover quickly, wiping my mouth as the handsome, blonde man chuckles under his breath, dipping his head low to try and hide his amusement. I frown, not wanting to be anyone's clown, but for some reason I find my lips curving up regardless. Over about ten minutes, the man and I share a few glances until I finally point to the seat next to me, silently asking him to join me. The man's brows rise in surprise before he grabs his drink and swaggers over, a charming smile on his face as he sits opposite me.

"Hi." He softly says, holding out a hand, "I'm Leon."

"Hi, I'm Y/N." I reply, shaking his hand before awkwardly setting my hand on the table, finger tracing the condensation on my glass.

"I don't wanna be rude or anything, but you look like you're having a rough time." Leon murmurs, tilting his head as he watches me. I snort as I nod, avoiding his eyes and the judgement I'll no doubt see, however instead Leon just leans back, "Wanna talk about it?"

I stare at him, brows knitting together in confusion. I'd absolutely love to spill my guts to someone, but usually people don't want to hear about my problems, nor do they want any part in helping me resolve them. I try to work out his angle, but the thing is, I only see honestly and care in his eyes. I take a deep breath, then begin telling him everything that's going on. From my health problems, to my debts and struggles with studies. Leon listens, never putting me down or trying to fix my problems for me, instead he just sympathises with me.

Leon orders us more drinks as we continue to talk, then as the evening grows later, Leon finally makes a joke that seems to magically cure my problems. "You ever thought about marrying a rich husband?"