Demi Imagines

Last Chance

I wanted to make a longish more story-like one!

You've always liked your high school classmate, Demi. Your father got a promotion at work, which is great—but it also means that you have to move out of the country. This is your last weekend. Your last chance.

You know where she lives, but is it too forward to just show up at her door and ask her out? You only have today and tomorrow. You have to do something before you regret it.
Swallowing all your worries, you start walking toward her house. Your heart beats in your chest like an erratic drum.
You stare at your feet as you walk. What if she freaks out? You don't even know if she likes girls.
After a few minutes, you arrive at her house. You look up the path to her door. Letting out a breath, you walk up onto her porch. You ring the doorbell, and you feel as though your heart is beating more loudly than the bell.
"Coming!" You hear Demi's voice. Your heart skips a beat.
You can hear her footsteps, and she comes to the door, throwing it open. She grins when she sees you.
"Hey!"
"Hey," you reply, smiling as your cheeks flush. Her hair is in a ponytail, and she's slightly sweaty. Her clothes suggest that she was working out. Damn, those thighs.
"What's up?" Before you can reply, she adds, "You're leaving in a few days, right?"
"Yeah. Monday," you respond, and she nods.
Again, before you can say anything more, she says, "I'm going to miss you."
Your heart skips a beat.
"I'm going to miss you, too," you admit, making her smile.
"I know we've never really hung out much, and honestly, I really regret it."
"You do?" you ask blankly.
"Yeah."
You try not to smile too widely. "Right. Actually, that was why I came over."
"What?"
"I was wondering if you wanted to go out later."
"Like..." Here it is. The moment of truth. "A date?"
You can't breathe, but you manage to nod.
She's silent for a moment, and you feel like you're going to pass out.
And then, after what feels like an eternity, she says, "I'd love to."

———

"This is a great place," she says as she sits down across from you. You've come to your favorite restaurant. It's fancy but not too fancy—just perfect for tonight.
"I know. I love it," you reply, smiling at her. You still can't get over how gorgeous she looks. She's wearing a chic black dress that shows off her curves.
"What do you recommend?" she asks, and you lean forward, looking at the menu.
"I really love the margarita pizza," you say, and she hums in approval.
"Sounds delicious."
"Shall we split the pizza and get some pasta as well?" you suggest, and she nods.
"The carbonara?" she asks, and you smile.
"Perfect."
You order your food, and gradually, your nervousness starts to fade. But she's so beautiful that you can't help your heart skipping a beat whenever she looks at you.
"So," she says, a smile on her gorgeous face. She's not wearing a lot of makeup, but she still looks flawless. She's like a goddess.
"So," you reply, smiling back.
She laughs lightly. "I'm sorry. I'm so nervous right now," she admits, making your eyes widen slightly in surprise.
"You're nervous?" you ask blankly, and she laughs.
"Yeah! Don't I seem nervous? Maybe I've gotten better at seeming cool when I'm actually having a heart attack," she jokes.
"I can't believe you're nervous," you admit, and she raises an eyebrow.
"Really? My heart is doing jumping jacks in there."
"Mine too," you laugh. "I'm so nervous that I feel like I'm going to pass out."
"Well, how about we both agree that there's nothing to be nervous about?" she suggests, and you smile. She extends her hand to you, and you slowly take it.
You feel a spark when your fingertips meet. Her skin is so soft and warm.
"Yeah. I'd like that."

A/N
we're gonna have a second part obviously