Jacob Sartorius Imagines

Expectations (sad)

based on this song 👆🏻

song lyrics, 5: "10 past 3, i know the club closed at 2 am"

Y/N's POV

3:10 a.m.

The digital clock on my dresser displayed the numbers in a green glow. My eyes snapped away from the clock, looking up at the blank ceiling. Where was he? The club had closed at 2 a.m.

I didn't even feel the urge to cry. This wasn't a new thing anymore. Nearly every other night, I lied awake at night alone in the bed Jacob and I were supposed to share. It was becoming more frequent, and I didn't know how to stop it. I stopped having the urge to stop it, if I'm being honest.

It's not that I don't love him anymore, I most definitely do. But I guess that I just wasn't in love with him anymore. At first I felt bad for it, like I feel obligated to stay in love with him, but he was the cause of it. If he'd stayed the same lovable, sweet boy that I had fallen in love with, maybe I wouldn't be feeling this way. If he was here next to me, maybe I would be snuggled up against him, my arms around his body, soundly sleeping with my face in his neck. But that's most certainly not what's happening.

I sighed, sitting up in the bed. I couldn't sleep, I didn't feel tired at all. After taking one last glance at the clock, I lifted myself out of the bed, not bothering to pull the covers back up in the spot where I was.

I walked over to the dresser and pulled out a pair of black leggings and a red sweatshirt. I pulled the leggings on without having to remove anything. I wore only my underwear and bra like I did on most nights. Then, as I was about to pull on the red sweatshirt, I stopped myself. It was Jacob's sweatshirt. And for some odd reason, I just couldn't bring myself to put his sweatshirt on. It must have been a weird subconscious thing. If Jacob wasn't able to protect me and keep me warm anymore, than why should I want his sweatshirt to do that?

I carelessly dropped the sweatshirt on the floor, pulling out another one, a teal one. I made sure that it was mine before putting it on. I readjusted the bun on my head and tensed up as an uninvited memory crashed over me:

"It's cute like that."

"Hm?" I hummed in confusion, knitting my brows as I stopped applying my mascara.

"Your hair," Jacob smiled at me through the mirror. "It's cute like that, I like when your hair's in a bun."

I couldn't help but smile as I continued coating my eyelashes. "Well, I'm glad," I laughed, "But I usually only put my hair in a bun if it looks bad."

I listened as he stood up from the edge of the bed and began walking across the room to where I was standing. The bottom of his shoes made small sounds against the wooden floor, getting louder as he approached. I couldn't hold back the joyful smile that creeped onto my lips as I twisted on the lid of the mascara, closing it. In the mirror, I watched him come up behind me and wrap his arms around my waist.

Jacob's cheek was against the side of my head as he also looked into the mirror. We stood together for what I would guess to be a solid minute in silence. He sighed and smiled wider. "My beautiful girl." I turned my head back to look at him. His smile never left his lips as he pulled me into a loving kiss.

I breathed shakily at the memory. I remember back at that time, everything felt perfect. It was Jacob and I against the world. There were no arguments or nights where he didn't come home from the club. We only ever went to the club together, dancing like no one was watching in our intoxicated states, grinding against each other and turning every head in the room.

I put on my black Nike slides and grabbed my car keys. I didn't know where I planned to go, but I just wanted to get out of here. To leave the apartment that was filled with every little part of Jacob and I's relationship, both good and bad.

I went to open the front door, just as it swung open before me. In stumbled Jacob, looking intoxicated, which was no surprise at all. The only surprise was that there was no little drunk girl clinging to his arm. Maybe he already had a hook up, but left when she went to sleep.

"W-What're you doing?" He slurred, eyeing me up and down.

I struggled to remain calm, to not scream at him that he's an inconsiderate, arrogant jerk. "I'm going for a drive." I bluntly stated, preparing to push him aside and make my way out the door. But he grabbed my wrist.

"Why?" He licked his lips before breathing out. His breath smelled like whiskey. Suddenly, I could see the mark on his neck, and I wondered how it wasn't the first thing I noticed, it was strikingly recognizable. And that was it, the last straw. I hated him.

"Because Jacob, I fucking want to." I felt myself about to cry. I wanted to scream, to cry out. I wanted to tell him how shitty of a person he's become, how I miss the old him.

Jacob's face softened, eyebrows knitting. "What's the matter, baby?" His hand slid up my arm and to my shoulder, but I aggressively pulled it off. Is he serious?

"Fuck, Jacob," I breathed, "Everything!" This time I pushed past him, slamming the door shut. I held back my tears, not breathing as I quickly walked to where my car was parked on the street.

I unlocked it and climbed inside. My head hit the steering wheel as I gripped it with both hands tightly. My tears, anger, and hate poured out at that very second. I yelled, squeezing my eyes shut as hot tears poured down my cheeks.

Why did things turn out like this? Why was he this way now? It's like he does everything the exact opposite way that I would want him to.

All the tears that I cry while I'm turned to the side, and he's in the same fucking bed. I wish I had no expectations. But, I expect, you expect, we expect.

okay random but young leonardo dicaprio >>>

Q: Which imagine that you've written is your favorite?

A: I really loveee 'just me, him, and the moon,' but my absolute favorite is the lost memories series. i just feel like i put so much work into it, it's got a lot of emotions and it's in my opinion the best thing i've ever written. go read them immediately if you haven't :)

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