𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

For The Record - Drake Merwin

A/N: This imagine was requested by @GHOULEIY. Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy it! Sorry if it's not great, but I tried my best lol :)

You were fuming when Caine sent you on this mission. It wasn't the danger, or the fact that Caine wouldn't be remotely grateful, or even the prospect of putting your life out on the line once again. You could deal with that, no big deal.

What made you angry was the company. You could not believe you were being sent out with Drake of all people. Drake!

When Caine paired you up with him, you had rolled your eyes and opened your mouth to protest, but there was no need; Drake was already throwing a hissy fit about having to go with you. Caine had - obviously - told the two of you to shut up and get going, leaving you shaking with anger.

It wasn't even that you didn't like Drake. As much as it irritated you to admit it, you disliking Drake was not an issue at all.

The real problem was that you liked Drake a little too much.

Although you wouldn't show it, it hurt you to watch Drake have a temper tantrum like a toddler over having to spend time with you. You weren't exactly open about your crush on him, and you knew what he was like, but you'd hoped that he would at least be able to tolerate you.

So now you're out in the wilderness with Drake Merwin, who is walking about 15ft in front of you, the two of you trudging through the dirt in silence.  You scoff, thinking begrudgingly about how he's trying to put as much space as possible between the two of you.

You stare at him, only able to see the back of his head. It's probably a good thing, too. Drake was annoyingly handsome, shark-grin and all.

You stay like that for a few minutes, the golden glow of the evening sun slowly disappearing over the horizon. The remaining darkness is unsettling, and the cold night soon wraps its icy tendrils around you. You hate being this far behind Drake. It's surely a lot safer for the two of you to stick together, but you don't want to run up behind him and risk making him angry.

Suddenly, a noise.

You stand still almost immediately. Stiffening, you look to your left, where you see a pair of cold yellow eyes. You turn your head, and see another... and another. A cold sweat floods through your body as you realise that you're surrounded. All in all, there must be about twelve coyotes circling around you, and you're sure they're salivating at the thought of tearing into you.

Not a second goes by before they rush towards you.

You have hardly any time to react before one clamps its jaw around your calf, knocking you to the ground. A second one pounces on you, and without hesitation you send out a sphere of crackling violet light from your body. Your forcefield causes the coyotes to go flying through the air, and they each land with a little thump. You hear gunshots, a scuffling noise and some soft whimpers before the coyotes run, scrambling over each other to get away from you.

Drake sprints over and kneels beside you, unsure of what to do. His brow is furrowed with what seems to be either anger or concern.

"Thanks for the help back there," you say sarcastically, wincing at the pain of your leg now that the adrenaline has worn off. You clutch your wound to put pressure on it and hiss as your hands grow wet. You've had worse, but it sure does hurt.

Drake shoots you an incredulous look before tearing off the sleeve of his shirt and tying it around your leg.

"Excuse me for thinking you could handle it," he murmurs. "Guess you're not as tough as I thought."

You shove him hard, and he grins at you.

"Yeah, sure. Remind me, who was it that got rid of the coyotes again?"

"Whatever... and for the record, don't do that again. Maybe you shouldn't come out on missions anymore if you're going to hurt yourself like this."

You shake your head at his words, growing slightly angry. "Oh yeah? What's it to you, Merwin? Stop pretending you care about me. We both know you hate my guts."

Drake's smile falls.

"I'm not pretending, Y/N."

Your eyes widen at his words, trying to make out his features, but you remain silent.

"Come on, Y/L/N. Let's get you home," he says as he scoops you up in his arms, trying to be extra careful with your wounded leg.

You look up at him and try to hide your growing smile. He's looking forward, concentrating hard on making out a safe path in the dim light. His grip on you is firm and his expression is serious.

"For the record, Merwin, I care about you too."