Imagines and Preferences: Book 1

Preference: I Love You | iZombie

Part 2 of You Love Her
Prompt #3
Requested by me bc no one asked for a part two but I'm writing it anyway

Summary: He finally works up the courage to tell you how he feels about you.

QOTP: Peyton and Ravi or Peyton and Blaine?

Word Count: 1780

Blaine -
"Oh, this one smells like cupcakes," Y/N says, holding an air freshener out to me in the middle of Bath and Body Works.

When she first got me to go buy an air freshener, I was thinking we'd buy a little cheap one from Walmart, but she had other plans. Not that I'm complaining. She could drag me into the Gucci store to buy a $1,000 air freshener, and I wouldn't protest.

Don E was right — I am in love with her. I've known it for years now, not that I'd ever admit it. Definitely not to her.

"You want this one?" I ask, referring to the cupcake scented one she just handed me.

She thinks for a moment, looking at all the other options. "I don't know... Which one do you like?"

I shrug. "It's up to you." Because it is. It always is.

She thinks some more, picks up a couple and smells them, then finally grabs one called Warm Vanilla Sugar. "This one." I put the cupcake one back, and we go to the register to pay. As we're walking out, she asks, "Are you hungry?"

"Are you?"

"Yeah."

"Where do you wanna go?"

She doesn't take long to answer, so she probably already had it in mind. "Y/F/R." So, that's where we go.

As I'm sitting there across from her, talking and laughing, I find myself wishing that this was an actual date. But I know it's not, and thinking about it just makes me feel worse. She notices.

"What's wrong?"

I shake my head a little and attempt to brighten up, smiling. "Nothing. I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" she asks suspiciously, leaning forward. "Because you don't seem fine."

"I'm fine," I insist. "Do you want dessert?"

"Yes," she replies. "I also want you to tell me what's wrong."

She seems almost hurt that I won't tell her, and it almost makes me consider it. But I can't. This is the one time I have to tell her no. "Nothing is wrong."

She sits back in her seat and goes quiet for a while. She's not laughing or smiling anymore, and it takes all my willpower to keep from just blurting out how I feel about her. Finally, she says. "You know, I never thought you would blatantly lie to me."

"Y/N-"

"Blaine, I have known you for years. I've seen you lie through your teeth to just about everyone in Seattle and then some. I know when you're lying, and you're lying to me right now. You've never lied to me before. What's wrong?"

I think for a moment, looking at her, then back down at my nearly empty plate. Finally, I mumble, "I love you."

She leans forward again. "What?"

I say it louder, though just barely, and look at her to gauge her reaction. "I love you."

"You..." she starts, seemingly shocked. "You love me?" I nod, and instead of what I expected her to do — politely reject me, change the subject, or even storm out of the restaurant — she becomes suspicious. "Is this a joke?"