cute celeb imagines

education ✱ bradley simpson

in which a sentence slips out unwanted and he feels offended.

"baby?" you sigh as your boyfriend's figure closes the front door behind him. after setting his bag on the couch and setting down his keys, he walks over to where you're sitting at the kitchen counter. you turn your head to give him a weak smile, exhausted from the relentless hours of working on a class essay.

"you're still working on that?" he says, setting a hand on the small of your back.

"yeah, i keep messing up or changing my mind about something and having to rewrite it." you set your head in your hands, staring at the screen.

"don't you think you should take a break, love? it seems like you've been pushing yourself a little too much."

"i just want to get a good grade," you mumble.

"i know you do but maybe you could work on this more tomorrow. spend some time with me, yeah?" he reaches out his fingers and closes your laptop lightly.

you pull your laptop closer to you and re-open it and start typing again.

"babe, seriously? i just closed that for a reason, i want to spend time with you."

you close your eyes, take a deep breath, and try to stay in your calm state.

"bradley, i don't think you understand. i need to finish this and feel confident that i'll get a good grade. not everybody can succeed in life without an education like you."

you freeze, immediately regretting the strong venom in your voice. brad takes a couple steps back and scoffs.

"i'm sorry," you whisper. "i didn't mean for it to come out that way."

"no, that's alright. i'll just leave you to it then because like you said, i don't understand. i have absolutely no education apparently."

"brad, come on." you watch as he turns to leave, grabbing his keys and reaching for the doorknob.

"babe, are you being serious?"

"what do you mean, am i being serious?" he asks mockingly.

"i mean, are you seriously about to leave the house because i said something stupid and completely meaningless?"

he stops in his tracks, turning to face you. his soft face has gotten red from his frustration, and his eyes glassy.

"you always do this," he says, his voice increasing more than before.

"do what?"

"you say something that affects me and when i get offended or i disagree, you make me the bad guy, always giving excuses for why what you said was 'just a joke' or 'it was nothing.'"

you angle your head to the ground, trying to rub away the chills on your arms from his raised voice.

"take just now, for example. i know not everybody finds themselves in my situation and i know you hate how i'm gone for months at a time, but this is my life. i didn't go to college, so i don't know the trouble of having to work on essays for hours on end like you do." by now, brad is close to you, arms flailing in hand motions and his voice projecting through the entire house. "but just because things may have been simpler in my life does not mean you can try to make me feel sorry for it."

his hands go back to his sides, his body relaxes, and he stares at you, then at his fumbling fingers. as tears start to form at your eyes you whisper, "i didn't know you felt that way."

slowly taking a step towards you, he wraps his arms around your waist. your arms untangle and they snake up around his neck, as you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck.

"i just want you to go easy on yourself. you push yourself too hard."

pulling out of the hug, his hands move from your back to your cheeks, cupping your face.

"yeah?"

you nod and lean your head further into his hand.

"okay."

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a/n!

i didn't want to be basic and write "i love you" as the last line but still sorry for a shitty ending