♡Sweetheart♡ ||Brendon Urie x Reader||

Chapter 3

Ayyy what is sleep lol.

I need more coffee

(I'm sorry this is late I'm so busy)

Mr. Urie successfully led me back to my room, and with a wave he was off again. By the time I sat down, my clothes were already sitting on the dresser.

Nothing was ever quite that fast, but then again, nothing was ever quite normal.

I slowly inched toward the limp cloth, hesitant to see what that man may have picked for me to wear. Part of me was terrified and another part was curious. I didn't know which emotion cancelled out the other, but I grabbed what I saw with both hands and held it at eye level.

Much to my relief, it was a simple white blouse, the frills on the collar complimenting the black jeans that were laid out for me.

Was I falling into his trap by wearing these clothes? I was doing exactly what he wanted me to. And that was terrifying, but what could I do? Not a single bone in my body possessed the desire to wear the dress I wore last night. It revealed my shoulders - the heart mark, especially - and it was not something I was comfortable in on a day to day basis.

It was in that strange moment that I realized I had nothing to do today. Would I get in trouble if I left my room? Is there even anything in here to do? I wasn't curious enough to find out, but I did know that I would never get in trouble if no one ever found me. I might as well try to figure out this house before I have to leave.

After a few slow steps out of my room, I quietly closed the door and ran, my bare feet padding against the hard wood floor. There was no use in staying in that room, anyway.

I let my feet glide down the grand staircase again, and I threw myself out of sight through the hall and began to walk. This hall was very different than the last: it was much wider, doors were less common, and it was obvious enough they were not bedrooms like last time. I hated the thought of seeing anything that was in those rooms, scared of what could await me, but as I thought about it, there was no harm in looking. Even though Mr. Urie is the way he is, he isn't particularly evil. He wouldn't be trying to kill me, nor would he be in some secret agency of people who are trying to spy on me. That would be ridiculous, and as vulgar as he can be, he isn't menacing.

I turned to my right, and the first door I saw was the one I shakily opened. The door seemed to open on its own as soon as I gripped the handle, and I jumped away from it, staring to make sure no one was behind me. But when I turned my head toward the room, I saw it was a simple storage closet. I knew, then, that it was something no one would have any problem with me entering. It was just a storage closet.

Just a storage closet.

The first thing right in front of my eyes when I walked inside was a picture frame. It had been laid down so that the photo inside of it was not visible, and that made me curious. I know I'm not supposed to snoop in the business of others, but maybe this photo would help me learn more about him. I needed to learn, since I would be staying with him for a while, but he didn't seem to want to tell me anything.

Cautiously, I reached toward the frame and pulled it toward my face. I noticed the frame itself was golden with beautiful decals of flowers engraved. That made me smile subconsciously, but there was no ultimate reason to be smiling. It just seemed to be an impulse that this frame induced.

And when I glanced at the photo, I saw the ageless figures of two people who I recognized like the back of my hand: myself and Brendon.

This was not normal. I don't remember taking this photo. I don't remember posing for it. And it certainly wasn't taken last night. My hand flew up to cup my mouth, and I had to put the picture face frame down like it was before.

Terrifying was the word to describe this moment.

Utterly horrifying.

I seemed to be the same age as I am now in that photo, but I only met him last night. I don't even own the yellow tank top and black leggings I was wearing in that photo. We were smiling and. . . hugging? I have never seen those clothes on him or myself ever. I have never willingly hugged him. The list of things wrong with that photo trailed on in my mind, and I ran outside the storage closet and slammed the door behind me.

I was panicking, but I should be angry. The only thing I could do was lean up against the closet door and hug myself to try to calm down. I tried to calm myself down, I really did, but the sound of a woman crying rang out throughout the hallway in an ominous, low echo, and knocked my sense of reasoning away.

I sunk to the floor and the woman began screaming indecipherable words, the only things I could pick up was the occasional, "No!" and sometimes the word Stop.

Whatever is happening to her please make it stop.

Her cries were quickly cut off. She couldn't have calmed down in an instant like that. Something had to do it. I didn't want to find out what it was.

My head was buried between my knees. Another voice whispered from the same area the woman's cries came from. I couldn't hear them. I wanted to get out of here, but I was afraid that any corner I turned I would come to that voice and I would see something I didn't want to. I stayed put. I tried to relax, but a hand hesitantly tapped my shoulder, and without thinking, I screamed.

"Woah, woah, woah." It was Mr. Urie's voice. He sunk to his knees in front of me to become closer to eye level, and put both hands on my shoulders. "Are you okay?"

I shook my head swiftly and jumped toward him, wrapping my arms around his torso for comfort and my face was buried in his chest. He seemed taken back by my sudden action, as his hands were in the air, unable to touch me, for a few moments, but quickly he gained the obvious knowledge that I needed comfort and placed his arms around me, resting his chin on my head.

"Hey," he rubbed circles into my back. "Tell me what's wrong."

Completely forgetting about the photo, I answered with unsteady breaths, "There was a woman's voice. . . and she was crying."

He sounded confused. "I didn't hear anything like that. Here, I'll lead you to a restroom."

"You aren't mad I left my room?" I was still silently crying, and I probably looked like a dunce, but I still needed to ask that question.

"I never gave you a rule that said you had to stay there, did I? You're welcome to leave at any time." He helped me up, and looked me right in the eyes to wipe my tears away. "It's going to be okay, alright? I won't let anything bad happen to you again."

I nodded, but panicked when he opened the door to the storage closet.

"You didn't happen to go in here, did you?" He was already walking inside.

"N-No." I lied.

He came back out, and without closing the door, began to lead me down the hall. I took one last look inside to see that the picture and its frame were now pathetically sitting inside a trash can.

Boop boop, did you like it?

Also I got to finish this because I'm sick today and not at school :0

Vote if you would like, it is very appreciated, and have a nice day!