ethan dolan imagines

letter//three

i'm writing this...it was requested damnnn

and this is rushed my bad

Your POV
probably one of the worst things that i've ever been through is lying to ethan, in front of his face, and just watching him look good on the outside when really i'm crushing him mercilessly to the ground. but it's not as worse as seeing him today right after reading the letter of how he felt while i lies to him. probably thinking about it now is as worse as the time i did it. years ago, and the guilt hurts more than ever. fallen out of your life right now? reaching something i thought would never be reachable?

what's going to happen now? don't see him, it'll only make things worse. looking at him reminds you of something.

the aches for his touch maybe? just him? just the thought of him? just the feeling of him?

is it guilt that's only making me feel this way? or is it just the thought of him being my first true love?

ethan is easy to love, i remember so much about him that i couldn't get enough of. he was a friend, a good friend in fact. he dealt with much of me, and controlled himself around me. he seems influenced by me, i influenced him in the worst of ways.

knocks on the door, my throat clogs up this bile. i can't let him see me, nor my husband. my eyes are bloodshot, and i have a letter from my first love under my books in my drawer.

"hi mr. and mrs. dolan," i hear after the door opens.

i hear his voice, deep and in a mutter. "we haven't caught up in a while."

"y/n would appreciate that," my husband spoke, and i bite my lip. "would you like something?"

"yeah-" all i hear before i believe they went to the kitchen. i'm still in my room, sitting on the edge of my bed, glancing at that drawer.

don't cry right now, get up and go and see him. i saw him a month ago but this feels different. it's more tense already. i feel like i'm walking on water.

"y/n, the dolans are here!" my husband shouts for me, and i swipe off the lint and dust off my sweater before dragging my feet towards the door. i reach the top of the stairs, see everyone gathered up by the door, ethan taking his coat off, a flannel on.

dragging my feet in a foot of water.

"hey," i mumble walking down the stairs. my fuzzy socks were on, it was a little embarrassing, i also had comfort clothing on; a baggy soft sweater, sweatpants with fuzzy socks, my husband is wearing a rather casual look. i feel my cheeks heat up when i hear ethan chuckle from my look, he's watching me come downstairs.

"hunny i told you to wear something nice," my spouse argued.

"i forgot," i said with a monotonous voice. sensations was heavy, the air was thick and dense.

water weighing on my feet.

"well that's fine, i thought about wearing my pajamas here anyway," ethan spoke up. he's lying, he just knows that i can't handle awkwardness.

"ethan, you serious?" his wife spoke sternly. she's a very beautiful and successful woman, her hair neatly up in a pony with a trendy outfit on. the way she speaks to ethan is affectionate, i wasn't that way.

"yeah, these are our friends," he says with a sassy tone. my husband chuckles a little bit. the only details he knows about ethan and i is that we were friends. nothing more. that's all the detail that i could give to him. that letter is the naked truth. i'm lying to my own lover at this very moment about the person next to him, staring intensely at me.