Emblem3 Imagines

No, Keaton .2

"Maybe I am stupid and maybe I am blind to your love or maybe I'm just a dumb person but I've always been here, by your side, and that's all that should matter. Whether you loved me the way you do now or if you didn't, my love for you will always remain and that's enough for me and hopefully you to realize that I'll always be here. Please understand," you hold his face in your hands and look over his exhausted features. He says nothing as his eyes slowly close. You start panicking and you start yelling to him, trying to make sure he's ok.

"What," he quietly asks, head lolling to the side into you.

"Stay awake," you yell to him. You knew you got the pills out of his system in time. As long as he was not convulsing, vomiting and anything in between, he was fine. But he wasn't fine, not fine at all. He was exhausted and ready to give up, his body ready to sleep. His mind and aching heart needed rest. He got what he needed out, all said and done, but he felt like he couldn't push along anymore. He felt the drooping of his eyes take over as everything around him seemed to disappear, nothing but black apparent.

You shake his body in panic, heart beating faster than ever before, mind wondering. You try getting up but his body weight against you weighs you down. You finally, ungracefully, get out of the shower soaking wet. You turn the water off and shake Keaton as hard as you could, yelling at him. He jolts and heavily breathes in as much air as possible, eyes still ready to close.

"Get up, Keaton," you grab under his arm to help him up but with it being wet, he almost slips and he jerks you. You fall forward, standing once again and grab Keaton. He slowly gets out with wobbling legs and you guide him to his bed. You hurry to the bathroom to get wrap, a towel, and a few other things. You dry Keaton off as much as you could and grab the wrap. You clean his cuts that had stopped as soon as you realized he was bleeding in the shower. It helped a little but nothing much. You wrap him up and head to the closet to grab him some fresh clothes. You tug his shirt over his head and go to his jeans. You don't think about what you're doing but you unbutton his jeans, pulling down to the best of your ability. You get his shirt around his head and neck, grabbing each arm to get in the holes of his shirt. He once again fell asleep and you get in the other side of the bed. You were worried he lost too much blood but you didn't want to call the police to make a big scene of it. You mom would've surely yelled at you, calling you dumb for not calling anyone, and telling you it was a big deal and it must be taken care of but you were always the type of person to do everything on your own and this wasn't going to stop you. In the back of your mind you knew he was ok and that was the only thing holding back to call someone, anyone. You wrap your arms around his body and move closer to him. You just wanted to feel secure and have a knowing he was still by your side. You move his wet hair out of his face, looking over his sleeping face. He looked pale and well drained but he was as perfect as the healthy, normal Keaton was. You knew he would no longer be the same person as before but you were going to stay by his side and help him regain his being. You did just that and he soon enough began to be the same person as before but more happy and care free.

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"No, Keaton," you scream. It was far from the scream you've screamed months ago. Your heart ached but ached in a way only love was apparent. You loved Keaton and he loved you. He made damn sure you felt it, knew it, and accepted it. He also made extra sure the dump kids at school seen it too, hoping their little fantasies were crushed like they once crushed his all.

Fingers deep and curve into every line out doing your body. You twist and turn in your spot, laughing hysterically in a way you couldn't help. It was like a second nature to laugh if you were being tickled, like any ticklish person out there. You try grabbing his hands but you barely nip his arms as they moved from place to place. You could barely breath as his body pushes in you and fingers work to make you laugh. It wasn't meant to make you get mad, just to hear your laugh. Keaton loved your laugh and he could listen to it for the rest of his life if it was possible. It wasn't cliche like music to his ears, he just loved the way you boomed with laughter and the way your eyes squinted to the way you curled to get away. He loved all the things you hated about your laugh and if it took everything in the world to hear it, he would round it all up and give it to hear you just once more. He knew you felt insecure of the way your laugh pounced from wall to wall to how your mouth opened widely, teeth showing but Keaton loved it all and that's what made you fit together like left out puzzle pieces ready to fit in the almost finished master piece. You loved what he lacked to see and he loved what you hated to see. He made sure to make you realize you were perfect as you were.

"Yes," he yells back to you as he still works on your sides, a laughter of his own bubbling in his system. You finally get a hold on his evil hands and you flip him over, you on top. You slam his hands on the ground with a smile. His face showed fear as your eyes glinted with nothing but an evil plan of pure revenge. You move your head to one side, hair falling over you two. You move lower down, pushing your body up, and face close to his. You were ready to get your revenge.

"No," Keaton gasps as your lips connect to his neck. You lightly bite and suck every part of it as he wiggles under you. You leave open mouthed kisses and scrap your teeth against his neck vein, making him go insane. He breathes heavily as he becomes excited under your touch.

"Nuh uh," you tell him quietly as you stop. He flips you over and preps your face with little kisses and you laugh as he says 'yes' after every kiss. His hands roam your body and you take him by surprise, ending in you two wrestling.

Once you get to a certain point, your both tired and ready to lay down and watch a movie. Keaton goes to the kitchen to get something to eat.

"Keaton, big spoon me," you yell. You were always big spoon and for once you wanted to be little spoon. He brings in a bunch of food to the table and sets it down. He picks you up in his arms and sits on the couch, laying down and bringing you into him.

"Happy," he asks you.

"Very," you grab his arm to kiss his pink tinted scars across his arms.

"I love you," was the last thing passed around as you focus in on the movie, messing with Keaton's hands the whole time.