band imagines • (emo+pop-punk)

Alex Gaskarth Imagine #12

I was walking along the street, listening to my music on my way to practice with the guys, when I felt a presence beside me. Turning my head ever so slightly, I saw Y/N, my best friend of who knows how many years. I lightly bumped into her with a smile, and she did the same to me, not an unusual greeting for us.

"Hey Alex," she said, looking up at me and shielding her eyes from the sun.

I took off my sunglasses and gave them to her, “Hey yourself.”

"I want to bake cookies."

"Sounds fun. I think I can do Tuesday?"

"Good for me. My house, this Tuesday. Okay, bye!" Y/N chirped with a wave, before turning down another street and disappearing from my sight.

That Tuesday rolled along and, hearing the ruckus before even opening the door, I used the key that I had to Y/N’s apartment that she gave me nearly as soon as she had the place. I walked in and found her on top of the counter, reaching for something just barely out of her reach. Chuckling, I came up behind her and grabbed it from its place and set it on the table with the rest of the ingredients that had already been found.

We began to make the cookies then. Of course, Y/N wanted to do most of it. I actually just measured things and occasionally got to mix the batter, but I really didn’t mind. After we had finally finished mixing in the final ingredients, we got out spoons to put the dough on the baking sheet. Mid-scoop, Y/N stopped abruptly and looked at me.

"Alex,"

"What?" I asked, looking back at her.

"I want to eat it now," she said.

I raised an eyebrow, “I thought you wanted to bake it,”

"I did but now I want to eat it," she restated, a tiny grin appearing on her face

My face mirrored hers, as I replied, “I don’t see a problem with that,”

Her smile grew, “Neither do I,”

And then we proceeded to eat the entire bowl of dough. Spoonful after spoonful, the amount of dough remaining decreased to nearly nothing. Y/N wiped some onto my face with a mischievous grin, so I naturally smeared double that amount on her.

Then we were throwing flour, chocolate chips were flying, and eggs crashed against the floor. Suddenly, Y/N tripped and sprawled out on the kitchen floor. As a reached a hand out to help her up, she grabbed it and yanked me down, so we were both sitting on the floor in hysterics.

As I saw her smile, I began to think about what we could be. I imagined us going out and people watching at the bar on the weekends. We would see douchebags running after their wives that they’ve pissed off and laugh at their stupidity. It would be a break from our lives where we wouldn’t have to worry about anything and just enjoy our time together. I saw myself having a bit too much to drink and she would take me back to my place, where she would stay for the night. I’d wake up to see her dancing around in one of my tshirts, doing whatever she saw fit.

I sighed deeply, knowing that what I wished that I had could never be. I hid in my daydreams because I wouldn’t be able to take the rejection. If Y/N didn’t have the same feelings as I did, I wouldn’t know what to do. If she did, I would be even more lost. Spending so much time separating myself just enough would make it nearly impossible to work out. Staying in my daydreams keeps me safe. I never have to worry about being at a loss. I never have to worry about getting hurt.

Y/N’s voice interrupted my little mental tangent, “What are you thinking about, Alex?”

"Oh, its nothing,"