Demi Imagines (Lesbian)

You Don't Do It For Me Anymore

-Demi's P.O.V.-
"I can't believe this." I marveled at the sight in front of me.

"I mean, it seems like just yesterday I was trying desperately to get his attention in elementary school." I smiled at the huge, gleaming rock on my ring finger.

"This is great, Demi!" Marissa grinned half-heartedly.

"Okay, spill it." I demanded.

"I just.. are you sure you're ready for this? Are you sure this is what you want?" Marissa asked. I looked at her.

"Marissa, this is all I've been wanting." My best friend nodded and smiled once more, a genuine smile.

"Then I'm on board!" We giggle and hug each other tight. As my wedding day drew closer, my other best friend, Y/N, began to fidget. I assumed it was because she was being deployed again. She stood at my door, eyes bloodshot. She hadn't been sleeping.

"Y/N? When's the last time you slept? Get in here." I demanded, opening the door wider. She shook her head.

"I just have to know Demi." She muttered.

"Know what?" I knitted my eyebrows together in confusion.

"Is that what you really want? Is he what you really want?" She asked. I looked at her, surprised.

"Y/N, you know he is." I answered.

"He's not.. he's not it for you, Demi. I know it." Y/N met my eyes. My concern was replaced with anger.

"What do you mean?"

"He's not right for you. He's not what's best for you." I scoffed and folded my arms.

"And what, you are?" I waited for an answer from her, but she didn't give me one.

"This is rich. I was concerned thinking you were worrying about being deployed, worrying about being hurt, but no. You were just worrying about if I was going to be single or not. Are you kidding me? I called you one of my best friends and you have the nerve to tell me that my fianceé isn't what's best for me?" Y/N made a move to come near me, but I stepped back.

"Leave. And don't come back. Don't contact me when you're gone, don't contact me while you're gone and don't contact me when you're back. Stay away from me." I spat.

"Demi, you don't mean that." Y/N's uniform was getting wrinkled as she tried once again to come near me.

"I do. I hate you." And with that, I slammed the door in her face. For months, I had gotten letters from Y/N anyway. Every time I saw her name though, I just threw it in the trash. It continued for a full year, but then, on January first, they stopped coming. I looked to Jesse who was sound asleep. A lot had changed in that year too. Jesse and I were more in love than ever, but we decided to wait until he was finished filming this current season of Grey's Anatomy. Once he did, it seemed as though the spark in our relationship left. I often found myself not wanting to be around him. The arguments were constant. I had lost my voice more than once from the altercations. I sat up, running my hand through my hair as I got out of bed. I walked down to the kitchen and filled a cup with ice and water. As I sat down at the kitchen island, I put my head in my hands.

"I just have to know Demi." Y/N's voice echoed in my head. I had been thinking of her a lot lately. I got so wrapped up in trying to prove a point, so wrapped up in the fact that my longtime crush finally noticed me and wanted to spend all his life with me that I neglected my actual feelings. I thought back to all those times Y/N and I joked around. Laughing and enjoying each other's company. I felt a hot tear roll down my cheek. I wiped it quickly, but more tears came rushing down. The next day, I was cleaning around the house, listening to my album. I picked up one of Y/N's sweaters. Amazingly, I kept them all. I closed my eyes and imagined my future. There was no Jesse in sight and that's when I realized that in the past I wanted him to love me. I had learned everything there was to know about Jesse. He wasn't perfect, of course, no one was, but Jesse wasn't my type of perfect either. He was verbally abusive, aggressive, controlling. I buried my face in Y/N's sweater. How could I have ever believed that Jesse and I would make it? I used to fall for all of his games. The gifts, the words, the smiles.. but now I've realized that I was just a pawn. I continued to clean, thinking about all I had found.

"Jesse, are you fucking serious? Three thousand dollars?!" I yelled.

"Demi, why are you nagging me? We have the money. I have the money! Get off my back!" He yelled.

"Because you just paying people off and gambling isn't going to solve your gambling problem! You have to fix it yourself!"

"Not everyone can have a grand recovery story like you, Demetria!" Jesse grabbed a beer from the fridge, something I told him I hated.

"Unlike you, I have an actual problem. I can't just go to rehab and solve it." He opened his beer and walked off to go sulk. I was taken back when he said that. My problems were very much real. And up until now, I had thought I was changing myself, doing some good in the world. I sat on the couch by myself for hours. When Jesse eventually came down and pulled me into his arms, kissing my cheek and neck and temple, I let him. I didn't make any attempt to stop him. Probably because I didn't feel it.

"I'm so sorry." He whispered. I sat there, letting him apologize, hug and kiss me, but I was gone. He had lost me. Again, the same scene played out. I was wrapped in his muscular arms, him snoring above me. I was wide awake, straight-faced and sad. I slowly slipped out of his grip, sitting at the edge of the bed on my side. I slipped off the engagement ring and grabbed my suitcase, packing it quickly. I picked it up and walked towards the bedroom door, throwing one last glance at Jesse. I shook my head before leaving. I headed to the only place I knew I'd find comfort. When I got out of the car, the rain was already pouring. My suitcase and I were drenched when I made it to the porch. I banged on the door repeatedly.

"Stop all that banging." The familiar voice yelled. My heartbeat quickened. The door opened and I looked up at Y/N. My bottom lip trembled. She had grown. She looked stronger, all her muscles on full display. But she looked weak. The dark circles under her eyes were more worse now than they had been two years ago.

"Demi?" She asked.

"He didn't do it for me anymore." I immediately said.

"What? Demi, what are you talking about? What are you doing here?" She asked.

"I.. I just need to know, Y/N." I hiccuped from my tears.

"I've been stupid. I wanted him to love me and when he did, I realized that wasn't what I wanted at all. That wasn't what I deserved."

"Demi, don't start." Y/N warned, but I kept going.

"He wasn't what was best for me. He didn't do it for me anymore." I grabbed Y/N's hands. She stared at me, hurt.

"I waited for you for two years. Waited for you to tell me you didn't hate me or to write me back or to at least tell someone that you missed me. And you never did. You let me go and you can't just show up here, on my doorstep crying believing that I'll be okay with it." Y/N dropped my hands. I shook my head.

"Please." I pleaded for her. I stepped up to her, grabbing the back of her neck and pulling her in for a kiss. It was deep, passionate, salty. I gripped her shirt, the only thing helping me stay up at her power. Y/N pulled away all too soon for my liking.

"Demi, stop." She demanded. She gently pushed me away.

"I waited. I cried. I lost sleep over you. Therapy session after therapy session. Bottle after bottle. I looked for you in everything I did. Made you my comfort item when I had an episode." I gasped. I abandoned her. PTSD consumed her and it showed.

"But you never came. And I have come too far to let you destroy me again." I reached for her, the tears rushing faster.

"Demi, you don't do it for me anymore." And with that, the door was shut in my face. I dropped to my knees, letting out an agonizing cry. I was alone. Just like I left her.