Author's Note: Remember that requests are still open! I really like this imagine, wow.
QOTD: Laiden (Lydia and Aiden) or Layden (Liam and Hayden)?
AOTD: Laiden by a long shot
I feel like I might be in love with you, and I've never said that to anyone before. So, please. Please look past the fact that I'm a huge douche and go on a date with me.
Lying in your bed doing homework on Friday night, you couldn't help but wonder where you would be if you said yes.
Jackson Whittemore had been flirting with you since high school started, and it was flattering at first, but then you realized what a grade A asshole he was. You wanted to go out with him, but you couldn't if your imagination was going to continue to lead you to believe that Jackson's idea of a date was probably spitting on the less fortunate and breaking the legs of injured people in the hospital.
You heard something hit your window, disrupting you from your thoughts. You turned your attention back to your homework, and heard the sound again. And again. And again. And again.
You opened the window and looked outside. A pebble flew into your face.
"Jackson, what the hell?" You yelled.
Jackson stood in your yard. A guitar was thrown over his shoulder, and he held a pile of pebbles, which he quickly dropped to the ground.
"I'm here to serenade you," he explained, pulling the guitar forward.
"You just threw a rock in my face."
"Yeah, I wanted you to look outside," he rolled his eyes.
"Why didn't you just start playing music?"
"I was worried you wouldn't hear it."
"Why did you have to throw pebbles? I'm on the first floor. You could have knocked on the window."
"Just come outside," he sounded irritated.
You knew it was wrong, but you climbed out the window, and stood in front of Jackson.
"It's an original song," he said. "I wrote it myself."
"I know what original means. Just sing the damn song so I can go back inside."
He cleared his throat, and started to sing in a clear, pure voice. You had never imagined him having a pure voice. "Two oceans in between us, and I wait for shore. There's a gate I see. There's a way for me."
"This sounds familiar."
"Don't interrupt me," he said, and started singing again. "Now this one sits here, and whispers things to me. Now I've got the Devil inside. This one made a pig of me."
"I'm pretty sure I know this song."
"No, you don't," he hissed. He started singing louder, like it would be more effective in getting his message across. "This wall is primal, my grinding jaw. The headache pill, the necktie on my bedroom floor."
"I definitely know this song. Isn't this 'Ava'?"
"My conscience burning, my eyes are too. Cuddled up with hard-"
"Contempt. Does she love you? And I swear I do."
Jackson stopped playing his guitar and scratched the back of his head. "You know Famy?"
"Everyone knows Famy."
"Danny didn't."
"You sang this to Danny?"
"I wanted to practice."
"Jackson, go home."
"Okay, look. I know I messed up with the song, but it's the thought that counts. I swear I tried to write an original one. I was just really bad at it, and I'm not used to being bad at things."
"Prove it."
"What?"
"Prove that you tried."
Jackson regretfully reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, folded four times.
"[Y/N], you sit in front of me in English. I like you. Please date me," you monotonously read aloud.
"It...sounds better when you sing it."
"I'm sure."
"I made an effort, okay? I never do that for girls."
"I know you made an effort," you said, folding the paper back up. "Which is why I'm going to give you a chance. One chance."
Jackson's face lit up. "Seriously?"
"Yes. Now get off my lawn before I change my mind and call the police."
"Yes!" Jackson raised his fist into the air, and galloped off in celebration. "We'll make plans on Monday!"
You watched with a straight face until you were sure he was far enough that he couldn't see you, and let a smile creep up your face.
