Demi Lovato Imagines

Reunited pt.3

The car speeds over a pothole making the seatbelt catch, cutting against your neck. Demi doesn't slow, barely even checking the rear-view mirror before she switches lanes, getting in position to travel out of the city. Coming up to the junction, she flicks on the indicator, hands tapping rhythmically against the wheel. 

Out the corner of your eyes, you look over in her direction. Her jaw is set, her cheeks pulsating as she grinds her teeth. After only a few seconds of sitting stationary, she huffs, leaning forward and whipping her head left and right at the oncoming traffic. 

"Come on!" she yells, impatient with both anger and excitement. When another stream of cars come into view, she curses loudly, banging her fist on the horn. No one stops, though. No one stops on the motorway. 

What can only be half a minute later, the car jolts forward, engine revving loudly and the force pinning you back against the leather interior. Demi turns the wheel too far, then tries to overcompensate, swerving and causing a series of honks from behind. But her face is split in half by a wide grin, pleased to now be on the move again. 

"Where are we going?" you mumble once she finally gets control of her speed and sits comfortably behind a truck up in front. 

"I don't even know, lol," she laughs hysterically. The reaches to the console, turning up the music. It booms in your ears. 

"Demi?!"

She just continues to laugh until you finally turn it down yourself so that the instrumental is now only a faint undercurrent to the conversation. 

"Demi, I'm serious!"

"Geez," she blows, taking her hands off the wheel in mock surrender. A look of thrill flashes across her face as she tries to see how long she can go without touching it again. 

"Demi!' you scream as the car gets dangerously close to the edge of the road. Grabbing the wheel yourself, you ease it back towards the central reservation. She cackles again, pawing at your hands and wrapping her fingers around where yours just were. 

"You're such a drama queen, you know that?" she pouts. 

"Are you trying to get us killed?!"

She clucks as a mother would to her teenage daughter who is having a breakdown over her mismatched outfit. When she spots you staring at her in alarm, she sucks in her cheeks, making herself look serious. 

"I've got everything under control. Don't worry!"

You don't remove your look. 

"Come on, Y/n! Just relax! I thought this was what you wanted?"

You shake your head, frowning. 

"To leave the city? That's what we're doing! You're supposed to be thanking me, actually," she adds with a feigned expression of hurt.

"Thanking you?! You've almost run us off the road?! I'd rather have stayed back there with your raging mom if I knew this was the alternative!" 

Despite the gushing air-con, your cheeks are hot and your back sticky as you try to keep one eye on the surrounding traffic and one on the steering wheel. You scan the interior for a bottle of water and realise there isn't one. 

"Fine," Demi mumbles under her breath. 

"Huh?" you snap, frustrated at her lack of awareness. You see her chin tremble and her eyes fill with tears. 

"Fiinne," she repeats whiningly, dropping the age from teenager to pre-school. "We won't have any fun. We'll do everything you say."