catfish and the bottlemen imagines for rainy days + mondays

Sugar For The Pill / Bondy

"Johnny fuckin Bond..." you opened your front door to the dead of night and a dishevelled lad you'd not seen in a very long time, "how the hell did you get here?" your voice was a breath, a melodic sort of sigh, you'd not been expecting him and he hadn't been expecting you to look as sweet or to sound as sweet as you did in that moment, hair in a long messy plait, slept on and whispy about your pale face which glowed warm amber from the porch light above and between the two of you.

"I uh.." he smirked, trailed off. It wasn't the question you'd been supposed to ask. "Me car like?" he said glancing over his shoulder for a second as if to check it was still there.

"Yeah but like..." you trailed off, words consumed by a yawn for a moment, one which sent you hiding behind your hands which moved to rub your eyes as you wobbled and leant against the doorframe for balance, "Argentina?" you asked, "wait no Brazil? Somewhere?" you couldnt remember where he'd told you they were visiting on the last leg of their tour but it had been so long since you'd spoken to him now that you thought you could probably be forgive.

"Did i wake you up lass am sorry," he said, ignoring your question completely, as if he hadn't heard it, which he'd have to admit he hadn't. He'd been too transfixed on the gooey kind of beauty you emanated when you had only just woken from a dream.

"mm, no, not sure," you hummed, "maybe?" you made him laugh as you pushed your fringe from your face again and stepped asside, "dya wanta come in? Need to sit down," you sighed making a move to simply slide down the door frame and sit where you were which stirred a proper laugh from him. A familiar laugh as he shook his head and moved to catch your, his arm around your waist ready to steer you through what he thought would be a familiar house into your little living room where the two of you had spent many days before.

But when he closed the front door behind him and reached for the light he was surprised, a little taken back to see that your tiny little terres house had metamorphosised since he'd been away.

But he'd been away a long time and he hadn't really been your friend for even longer than that.

You smiled a little shyly up at him, stepping away, out of his hold on you, your hand on his arm to steady yourself.

"Sorry," you mumbled, "m'high as fuck," you said smirking guilty when he grinned back at you.

"Not everythings changed then ey," he said.

"You have," you said, your eyes lighting up, "you're a big millionaire now with fancy guitars n loads n loads of fans," you said, leaving him to chuckle as you followed him into your kitchen where he put the kettle on.

"You talk like a child when you're stoned y/n"

"yOu tAlK lIKe A CHilD wHeN yOurE sTonED.." you mimicked him, mumbling to yourself, sparking a familiar irritation in him that if you'd asked him then he would have smirked and said, yeah actually i do miss you.

But you didn't ask him so he didn't say it and the two of you simmered in a strange sort of silence listening to the kettle bubble and boil.

"I love what you've done with the place..." it was awkward, him looking around the home you'd built since you'd stopped talking. It was strange seeing him be a part of it.

Strange because it still suited him, even though you'd tried so hard to cut all traces of him out.

"Why?" you asked, opening up a cupboard which really shouldn't have housed mugs and cups but which did because after he'd left you'd thrown everything upside-down trying to make it feel like you'd left and moved somewhere new too.

"What?" he smirked, watching you reaching for the sugar which you now kept extremely inconveniently on top of the fridge, "and why the fuck are you keeping your sugar up there,"