Fandom Imagines

Kellin Quinn

Song: With Ears to see and eyes to hear, Sleeping with Sirens l

Tumblr: desperado-diamond

You slammed the car door violently, shutting out the barking you could hear coming from the vet's office. Miserably, you sniffled and looked at the collar you held in your hands, tracing your thumb over the dogtag. You'd miss that dog; already you could feel a huge part of yourself missing. They had been the reason loneliness hadn't killed you yet, with Kellin being on tour for almost a year.
That thought struck you hard, as you hung up the collar on your rear view mirror and started to drive away with tears still on your cheeks. Your bottom lip quivered as you thought about it; how would you tell Kellin your pooch had died? He'd loved that bugger as much as you had.
But...he only had three more days of tour left and then he'd be home. You didn't want to ruin the last moments with his band, so you told yourself you'd keep it to yourself.
You unlocked your door and sighed, feeling a pang of sadness when you didn't hear the telltale clack of nails on the hardwood floor. You hung the collar up on a hook, right next to the leash, and went to the living room, trying to keep your mind off it.
You flipped to a silly movie, and you felt a little bit better until your phone began to ring. You knew who it was; Kellin called weekly just to check in.
Steeling yourself with a shaky breath, you slide to unlock your phone and said a very quiet, "Hello?"
And instead of the regular cheery greeting, there was a beat of a pause before Kellin responded with a concerned, "What's wrong?"
You worked against the lump in your throat before finding the courage to speak. "N...nothing, Kellin. How was your show? There's...pictures up already."
"(Y/N) seriously," he sighed, and you heard him stand and a door slam; he must have went outside. "What's wrong?"
"It's...nothing important," you warbled. "It can wait until you get home. You're still coming home, right?"
"Absolutely. Nothing has changed," he said confidently. "I'll see you and the pup in three days."
Tears sprung to your eyes and you responded with a quiet, "Okay."
He told you some funny stories that had happened from the last time you had talked to him, and you knew he was trying to get you to loosen up and laugh for him. You managed a measly chuckle before you told him goodnight and hung up the phone, sliding off the couch to get ready for bed.
It was hard to sleep; your dog typically sleep on your feet, and you found them to be too cold for your liking.
The next morning, your first thought was to let the dog out. You called for them twice before your eyes caught the collar hanging by the door and your stomach dropped.
You retrieved the paper yourself that day, the doggie door not swinging like it usually did.
Around dinner that day you filled the dog bowl up, because your dog liked to eat overnight. The next morning, you felt tears prick your eyes when you realized it was still filled.
It continued like this, but you had to admit you were getting considerably better with the loss of your beloved pet. By the time Kellin was due home, you only called them once or twice a day.
From the kitchen, you heard the key in the lock and heard a happy "I'm home!" from the doorway. You smiled to yourself and left the stove, going to greet him in the hallway.
He was looking around confused when you saw him. "(Y/N), where's the dog?"
And you burst into tears. Kellin's eyes widened and he scooped you into his arms, hushing and rocking you back and forth as you gripped his shirt like a lifeline. He felt tears well in his own eyes as he pieced together what happened.
"(Y/N), you could have told me," he murmured, pulling you back slightly to smooth some tears off your cheeks.
"I-I didn't want to ruin your tour!" you wailed, sniffing and trying to hide your tears. "It just happened so fast and I couldn't stop it and-!"
He pulled you close again, shushing you and running his fingers through your hair, an action that he knew always soothed you.
"You need to stop worrying about other people so much, (Y/N)," he chided softly. "Your happiness is just as important as mine. When you need me, you need to tell me."
He kissed you softly then, and you responded, pulling away only as you heard the timer beeping. You turned to go to the kitchen but his hand snagged you, arms wrapping around your waist from behind.
"Leave it," he sighed. "Save it as leftovers. I really want Chinese."
You smiled crookedly; that was your comfort food, and he knew it. You relaxed against his chest, lolling your head back onto his shoulder. "Okay."
He kissed your neck before suddenly swinging you up and throwing you over his shoulder, delighted by your happy squeal. He caught sight of the dog collar and hummed in thought. "You know, we could frame it."
You looked at the collar from your perch on his shoulder before nodding. "We could make a shadow box out of it."
He smiled and set you down, letting you save the leftovers before you came back out of the kitchen, taking his hand and leading him to his car. "So, chinese or craft store first?"
He opened the door for you and made sure you were settled before getting in the driver's side. "Food first. Then we make sure the dog stays with us forever."