Original Magcon Imagines

A Bartender - Taylor Caniff

“The best revenge is just moving on and just getting over it. Don’t give someone the satisfaction of watching you suffer.”

 

It’s painful. My heart is torn into pieces. They’re all scattered everywhere I go. The feelings won’t go away. It won’t leave me because I know I can’t let go that fast. Because I know, and he do so, that I still love him. What did I do? What did I do to make him do this to me? I don’t deserve this. In our two years relationship, I thought his the one. But I guess he never thought that about me.

“Hit me another one,” I say to the bartender.

“Are you sure, ma’am?” he asks, politely. “You’ve drink a bottle now. Aren’t you worried about your health?”

“Everything inside of me is broken right now, ok?” I yell at him. “Now, give me more vodka.”

He took out another bottle of vodka and pours it on my glass. He hands it to me and I drink all of it without pausing.

“Why are you doing this?” I heard him say in front of me.

“Why do you care?” I frown at him.

He walks out behind the counter and sits down beside me.

“I care because a beautiful girl like you shouldn’t cry and drink a lot,” he responds.

I look straight in his brown eyes, which is full of concerns and worry. I sigh and look away.

“Tell me what happened and I’ll listen to you,” he suggests.

“I don’t even know you,” I sob, looking up to him.

“Well, first off. My name is Taylor,” he says, pulling his hands out of his jean pockets for a shake.

“I’m Y/n,” I reply, as I grab his hand and shook it.

“Well, Y/n, do you want to go outside and grab some hot chocolate,” he requests, while he stands up from the stool. “My shift is done anyways.”

“I have a really bad time trusting people these days,” I sob once again, not moving an inch on my sit.

“You can always trust me,” he says. “I don’t bite.”

“You might,” I giggle and he laughs with me.

I look straight in his eyes once again, which is now only half worry but half happiness.

“Can I really trust you?” I ask, still staring in his brown eyes.

“Of course you can,” he smiles at me, and his eyes sparkle.

The butterflies in my stomach began flying around but I ignore it. I stand up from my stool and put on my jacket. My eye sight suddenly becomes dizzy and I stumble to stand up. He caught me with his strong hands and helps me with my balance. He took my jacket off of my hands and he helps me put it on.

“Are you sure you can walk?” he whispers in my ear, which made me shiver. “You’re really drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk,” I reply, turning my body to look at him. “I’m fine.”

He nods his head and he helps me walk out the bar, with his left hand on my back and the other hand is holding my hand. We start walking down the streets and walk to the nearest coffee shop. We didn’t talk pretty much the whole way, but it was a comfortable silence. After the cashier handed us our hot chocolates, we continue our pace walking down the street.

“So,” he says. “Are you going to tell me?”

“Right,” I sigh, and I felt his hands on my back go lower to my waist. “Umm… I don’t really know how to put it in good words.”