ethan dolan imagines

he sketches//three

look at him being a cutie!!! he's my bumble bee baby boy:) but he looks so tired:(

i have confide-uNeDiTeD

Your POV
"want to go to my place," he says walking me out of the parlor, my lips still taste of ice cream. "you don't have to, i can take you home, you just might have to give me directions."

i nod my head humming back a 'yes' since i was distracted by his hands grasping mine just like before. it's as if we slipped into something else without realizing it, it feels foreign but at the same time i enjoyed the quick transition from friend to...well something closer.

we reach his truck, and we got inside quick. he eyes look at me suddenly and intensely, like he wants to say something. "what?" i ask searching his dilating pupils for answers.

"i don't know, i zoned out," he blurts turning his face towards the parking space that he was back out of. i want his hands grasp the wheel tight. "turn on some music!"

"okay," he drags turning it on, and i feel my nerves relax when he plays his variety of songs. my mind races off with the music, thinking about the lyrics. he really does like songs that have a story. his fingers tap on the steering wheel that follows the faint beats of the song, my mind slowly lured by his soft humming and tapping.

"you're quiet," he says looking at me quickly, a humbled smile appearing on his tanned face.

"yeah i know, i'm just listening to you and the song," i say looking out the window.

"oh...you heard me?"

"yeah, but keep doing it, i like it," i said closing my eyes just focusing on the music again.

and soon i feel his car thump when reaching his driveway, my eyes opening, and then meeting ethan putting his car on park.

i get out, then feel his arm around me as usual. "my mom isn't home?" he asked himself, opening the door. "hello? mom? dad? i guess they're not hear. gray? cam?"

no one answered, i look around the place, family like atmosphere when i smelled the same vanilla cinnamon that was on ethan's sweatshirt. it's warm and cozy, the living room had stacks of blankets on the couch, the kitchen had cookies on the island left out for snacks, along with fruits resting in a bowl. my eyes search around the photos on the walls, him and his brother posing together during maybe their toddler years, smiling playfully, a piece of artwork on the wall with a quote on the bottom right 'happy mother's day' in childish handwriting and christmas cards on tables.

it was a peaceful atmosphere just walking in. "get comfy, i'll turn on something while you hang around," ethan said walking out of my vision. i take my shoes off, and i walk around the place, my hands in my pockets looking at the family photos on the walls.

i find myself wondering how no one knows this about ethan at school. he isn't just 'an anti-social weirdo who draws'. he's a family-man, smart, kind to others, his humor is perfect for me, and he's comfortable with all kinds of music, he's just like most people, except people never really dig into ethan to find his true self other than a person who sketches art. scratch that-he's unique in a way that outshines the rest, his personality is honest once you know him, i've never met someone like him, he's really something special.

i've probably felt more vulnerable around him as we got to know more about eachother. chills fall down my spine, my smile peering out, i'm vulnerable to him.