Bastille Imagines

Wrapping Paper

~ Kyle ~

You slowly approach your sleeping husband.

He's going to kill you for this.

You quietly sneak up to the end of the bed before pouncing. Kyle wakes up with a start, banging his head on the wall.

"Fucking hell, Y/N, what the fuck?!" Kyle curses, grabbing his head in pain.

"Happy birthday!" You shout with a smile.

"No, it's just birthday, it's not happy cause I have a fucking sore head." Kyle grumbles.

"More complaining and you won't get birthday presents or cake." You state making him frown immediately. 30 years old but he's still basically a five year old. "Come on old man, get up!"

"Fuck off!" He laughs. "You're the same age!"

"Bullshit, I'm months younger than you!" You shout back. Sure, your 30th is coming up too, but Kyle acts as if it's the same day as his, just to tease you about how 'old' you're getting. Kyle rolls his eyes and pushes you off him and pins you to the bed.

"Or, I could have the best present which is right here?" He smirks.

"No, that's tonight." You whisper.

"Come on, I'm the birthday boy." Kyle grins.

"But I got you a new guitar! I want you to see it!" You whine. His face immediately lights up and is immediately scrambling off the bed and running downstairs. "Idiot." You mutter. When you get downstairs, Kyle is already sitting in wrapping paper, playing the new guitar. "And?"

"It's good... it's too nice to come on tour though. Don't want Will accidentally breaking it or Charlie touching it or Dan landing on it drunk or Woody trying to use it as a drum." Kyle mutters quickly. Before looking up at you with a smile. "Thank you Y/N."

"It's no problem." You smile.

The rest of the day consisted of Kyle randomly throwing balls of wrapping paper at you to see how long it would take for you to shout at him. Then he'd stop you and tell you that you can't shout as it's his birthday.