brendon urie imagines

Twenty Questions

Aurora's POV:

Me and Brendon sat across from each other at the dinner table, eating the salad I managed to produce in mere minutes.

The noise of his fork smacking against his plate stifled and I looked up to see him staring at me.

"Let's switch this up.", he suggests.

I furrow an eyebrow and cocked my head, subsiding from my meal.

"How so?", I wondered.

"Twenty questions.", Brendon replied.

I scrunched up my nose to preform a weird and daring face at him.

"Why?"

"Well...", he trails off.

"We know each other so well, we know the depths of our own, but we don't know the surface layer.", Brendon preached.

I smiled.

"Okay, first don't get all deep and shit on me,"

He chuckled at that and blushed.

"Second, sure, I guess."

Brendon nods, resuming the consumption of his meal.

"You first.", we mumble at the same time, causing a slight shock of laughter.

"Okay, okay.", I bow and lift my head, still smiling.

"What's your-", we say in unison.

I laugh again, "I thought you said I was first."

He shook his head, "I meant first to answer a question.", now he's laughing.

"Okay, fine, whatever. Just get on with it."

Brendon let's out a breath. Not a sigh, just exhaling more drastically than normal.

"What's your most valued possession?"

I tap my fingers against the wood of the table beside my plate. What is my most valued possession?

"Could it be a general object or just one specific thing?", I wonder, retrieving my fork from the table.

"Don't think too hard about it. Either or,"

Now, I actually sigh.

"Gray, by Pete Wentz. The book means so much to me, and I scribbled down my emotions on the corners of the paper."

Brendon smiles at my answer.

"So, what's your most valued possession?", I question.

He shrugs, "You."

I raise an eyebrow.

"Well, you're mine, right?"

I blush and look away. He chuckles at that.

"So, uh, your turn.", I mutter out.

"Where is your favorite place in the world?", Brendon asks.

"How can you come up with such good questions?", I retort, causing him a sideways grin.

"Hey, it's not your turn to ask questions.", he establishes.

I roll my eyes.

"Chicago."

He puts on his famous valley girl tone, "Chicago is so two years ago.", he scoffs.

I choke on nothing, laughing hysterically.

Brendon boyishly giggles. That was cute.

"When did you discover your passion?", I interrogate.

That's all this was, right? A simple interrogation. Yeah.

"When I was, like, 11."

I nod.

"A bit young, right?"

Brendon shrugs.

"What's your favorite shirt?", He wonders.

I stand up, pushing out my chair and lifting Brendon's hand from the table. I grip it and drag him along the house until we make it to our bedroom.

I go to my side of the closest and lift up a red shirt that says "unoriginal".

He laughs at my choice.

"Wasn't that the shirt you wore when we first met?"

I smile, "Yeah, you said it was unoriginal to wear a shirt that said unoriginal on it."

Brendon nods, "Yeah, and I challenged you to prove you were original after you got so deeply offended I called you boring."

I giggled. "Yeah."

Brendon sighs, "So your favorite shirt is your favorite shirt cause it's the one we met in?"

I shrug.

"Unoriginal.", he mumbles.

A/N: Aloha. I kinda like this one. I hope you guys did, too! Thanks for reading and voting and commenting and everything it means so so much for me. Love youuuuuu

-Emma💜