Drew Starkey Imagines

Always You

The first time you met Drew Starkey, he was nothing like the man you had imagined.

You had heard about him long before you ever stepped into his house—about the accident that changed everything, about the way he used to be. Before the world shifted beneath his feet, Drew was golden. Adventurous, reckless, always moving. But now? He was different.

Your job was simple. His family hired you to be his companion, to lift his spirits, to remind him that life could still be beautiful.

But Drew Starkey didn't want to be saved.

⸻

The first few weeks were the hardest.

You showed up every morning, cheerful and bright-eyed, only to be met with cold indifference. He barely looked at you, let alone spoke more than a few clipped words.

"I don't need a babysitter," he muttered one day as you sat across from him, flipping through a book.

"Good," you replied, not missing a beat. "Because I'm not one."

His blue eyes flicked up to meet yours, intrigued despite himself.

You never treated him like he was fragile. Never tiptoed around him or looked at him with pity. And slowly, ever so slowly, he began to thaw.

You learned that beneath the layers of sarcasm and bitterness, Drew was still Drew. Witty, intelligent, devastatingly charming when he wanted to be.

And just like that, the job became something else entirely.

⸻

"I bet I can make you smile," you said one afternoon, arms crossed as you watched him sit in his usual spot by the window.

Drew arched a brow. "Doubt it."

A challenge.

You grinned, pulling out your phone and playing a ridiculous video, one you knew was impossible not to laugh at.

Drew fought it. His lips twitched, his jaw tightened—but then, just as the video hit its peak, a laugh escaped him. It was short, almost reluctant, but it was there.

Your heart soared.

"There it is!" you cheered, grinning. "Told you."

Drew rolled his eyes, but there was something softer in them now. "You're impossible."

"You love it."

And maybe he did.

⸻

Somewhere along the way, something changed.

It was in the small moments—the way he started waiting for you in the mornings, the way his eyes lingered a little longer, the way his voice softened when he spoke to you.

It was in the nights spent talking about everything and nothing at all. In the way his laughter became a sound you wanted to hear forever.

It was in the way your heart started beating differently when you were around him.

You were falling.

And God, you knew you shouldn't be.

But how could you not?

⸻

"Come with me," you said one evening, standing by the door with an eager smile.

Drew gave you a look. "Where?"

"You'll see."

He sighed, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. "You're relentless."

"And you love it."

He didn't deny it.

That night, you took him to the beach. The air was crisp, the waves gentle, and for the first time in a long time, Drew looked... at peace.

"I miss this," he admitted, staring out at the water.

"You can still have this," you said softly. "Maybe not in the same way, but... life isn't over, Drew."

He turned to you then, expression unreadable. "You really believe that?"

"I do."

His gaze held yours for a long moment. "I wish I did."

Your chest ached. You reached for his hand, squeezing it gently.

"You will," you whispered.

And for the first time, he squeezed back.

⸻

You thought things were getting better.

But then, one night, everything shattered.

"I'm leaving," Drew said, voice quiet but firm.

Your stomach dropped. "What?"

"I've already made my decision," he continued, avoiding your eyes. "I just didn't want you to find out from someone else."

You shook your head, heart pounding. "Drew, you don't have to do this."

"Yes, I do." His voice cracked. "I can't—" He exhaled sharply, frustrated. "This isn't the life I wanted. I don't want to be stuck. I don't want to be a burden."

Tears burned at the back of your eyes. "You're not a burden."

He let out a humorless laugh. "Maybe not to you."

Your hands clenched into fists. "Why won't you just let yourself be happy?"

"Because it won't last!" He finally looked at you, eyes filled with something broken. "Because one day, you'll realize this isn't enough for you. That I'm not enough."

Your breath caught. "You don't get to decide that for me."

Drew swallowed hard, looking away. "You deserve more."

All the fight drained out of you.

"Drew, I don't want more. I want you."

The silence that followed was deafening.

And then, finally, he whispered, "I'm sorry."

And just like that, the walls came back up.

⸻

You didn't see him for days after that.

But then, one morning, a letter arrived.

With shaking hands, you opened it.

"You changed everything for me. You made me laugh when I thought I never would again. You made me believe—if only for a little while—that maybe, just maybe, life could still be beautiful.

And if I were a different man, in a different life, I would have spent forever by your side.

But I need you to promise me something.

Promise me you'll keep living. That you'll travel, that you'll chase the dreams you've always been too afraid to say out loud. Promise me you won't let your life stop just because mine has.

I love you.

I always will.

But this is my choice.

And I need you to let me go." - D.

Tears blurred your vision, your heart shattering into a million pieces.

But you knew.

This was never about you not being enough.

This was about Drew not believing he was.

And that was a battle only he could fight.

So, with a heavy heart, you whispered, "I promise."

And then, you let him go.