Taron Egerton Imagines

A Voice Like Yours

ceo of ignoring my books for ages and then editing them to the max to fit the change in my literary style and furthermore my personality 😎

Taron's P.O.V

The final song of the night sprayed it's fleeting instrumental through the speakers. We covered Don't Go Breaking My Heart by Elton John for the last time, the ending verses of the song were sung full of laughter as we let go of all the stress, worry and work we had put ourselves through over the last couple of months. Stress, worry and work from putting on this performance.

We had succeeded. We put on one hell of a show, just like we promised we would.

I looked towards Y/N, her eyes crinkled slightly as she grinned at the lyrics we sang, that approving look in her eyes suggesting that she too really believed in tonight's success. I smiled back as we finished the song and I twirled her around, just like we practised. Just like I had always looked forward to.

The music finished, but the venue was far from quiet. The audience erupted in a deafening applause, we laughed and we hugged, out of breath but ecstatic. The rest of the crew came out onto the stage, all adorning big, beaming smiles and an exhausted expression. We bowed, we curtsied, we thanked the audience. We did anything to show our appreciation.

The performance was planned as a fundraiser to help support the families dealing with disability and terminal illness in the community, but it became so much more. The crew members each shared a passion towards the cause and each other, so many close friendships formed and bonds created that I doubt will ever weaken.

Friendship.

All of the people stood out on that stage with me are gorgeous humans, and I'm glad working with them has been apart of my life.

But when it comes to Y/N, settling for this experience hurts.

Working with her had been easy, she understood my devotion to the cause in a way that none of the other crew members had bothered to comprehend. Becoming her friend was inevitable, the gradualistic nature of friendly banter to ease tension turning into seeing things in each other that hadn't been seen before slipped right through my fingers.

The action of simply spending my time with her over the past couple of months has been a highlight to this production. I'd be lying to deny a pathetic adolescent-like crush had started early, but as time continued, and as we got to work on that finale duet, real feelings that caused real stress had surfaced.

~~~~~~

Crew members are cramped around the pub booth the manager showed us a while back. It had become a meeting spot of sorts outside of work for the group. Obnoxious, if not slightly tipsy laughter echoes off the walls as he recites some lyrics of some cheesy song he'd switched out for the finale duet.

Every few minutes, I let my eyes fall on Y/N, laughing and talking along with the crew. As she snorts after doubling over in laughter at the manager's voice crack, she sighs in contentment while looking back up at me.

Goodness sake.

Her smile. Oh god, her smile. I placed an empty beer bottle on the bench before nodding towards the bathroom to indicate my absence, getting out of the booth and making a beeline for the toilet. What is it about her?

I know it wouldn't work, this might be the last time we actually hang out in a while. Might be the last time we hang out at all. We're adults, we have lives and no established room for each other, it only makes sense to keep this a memory, not a pastime.

But... it's Y/N.

And something about Y/N just made being able to breathe a little less laboured. Being able to think a little less harsh.