Bastille Imagines

Rawr

"But do we really have to?"

Yet again the complaints repeatedly being moaned through your boyfriends mouth gives you the perfect excuse to turn round and threateningly stare at him with darkened eyes. You quirk your eyebrow and cock your hips to one side, does he really need you to answer that question for the fifth time? Of course a Halloween party would certainly push Dan out of his comfort zone, but would it kill him to take a break for once? You understand the pressure of being the front man of a band, the deadlines you have to face and the consequences it comes with, but recently Dan has isolated himself and officially made the studio his sanctuary for the time being. It's gotten noticeably worse over the last three months now that the album is almost done; his sleeping pattern is disrupted, his intellectual is solely focused on work and his social life is at the bare minimum. He's physically torturing himself, possibly damaging his own mentality and if you don't act now, something could take a turn for the worst.

"Go get your costume on, you're going." You demand. He sulks off like a child not getting what they wanted, but you know this is only for the better of him. Minutes later, he presents himself in an almost luminous orange and black tiger onesie. You struggle to hold in your laughter, pursing your lips until they turn your white as an attempting to maintain your composure.

Nope. It's too funny.

Of course you have to laugh, what isn't funnier than seeing a grumpy Dan sulking in an enlarged tiger onesie?

"That's your costume?" You splutter, having no control of your breathless laughter. He blankly stares at you clearly taking this costume situation too seriously.

"What. I'm a tiger."

"Mm hmm, if that's what you're going to call yourself." You mutter.

"Okay. That's it. I'm not going."

Without taking no for an answer you drag him behind you, costumes on and your enthusiasm rocketing sky high hoping that it would maybe rub off on Dan. Glumly, he follows behind you dreading the night ahead.

"C'mon, it'll be fun. You deserve a night off." You say. He knows you're right but he just won't admit it, he hates being wrong. He complies with your obsessive need to go to this party and follows you into your car and you speed away to the Kyle's.

Walking in, the first thing you see is various costumes ranging from typical skeletons to exuberant, hand made Elvis Presley costumes. You admire the efforts of each one of your friends, having only put on a simple red cape and dress and tied your hair into cute bunches pretending to be Little Red Riding Hood. While Dan on the other hand thought it would be acceptable to put on his tiger onesie and call himself a tiger, although...you have to admit; he does look like an adorable tiger.

All of a sudden an oversized man-cat pops up into your face surprisingly, making you jump out your skin. So much for Halloween.

"Hey! You made it...and you brought Dan as well I see. Always good to see a fellow cat in here." He gleams patting Dan on his back. Dan's lack of enthusiasm and excitement irks you, so much that you march your way over to the cooler of drinks, pick the first thing your hand could grab and literally force it down Dan. If sober Dan isn't enjoying himself, maybe drunk Dan will.

"Here, drink this and lighten up okay? Go and talk to your friends, have a few drinks. I'm not going to have fun if you don't." You state handing him the refreshing, cool beer. He tentatively reaches for the beer and taking a quick swig. "Please try have fun?" You beg, pressing yourself against him in a desperate plead, those puppy eyes of yours looking for some sort of approval until finally, he succumbs. He gives in and kisses you gently on the head with the promise of enjoying himself.