Imagines | Justin Bieber

Lady In The Glass Dress: Part 1

Based on a song.
By Chris Brown.
Taking a break from homework to eat and update, ☺️
. . .

It's been a long night filled with pain and regret. You gave him everything. Everything you were so cautious about you gave to him with the upmost love and trust. You could've sworn he cared about you, but he spat all over that. You were sobbing in your one bedroom apartment, not sure why this had to happen to you.

"Y/N? It's me, Justin. Where are you," he yelled from the front door. Justin wasn't your friend, he was your friends brother. She had convinced him to go over to your place with the spare key and cheer you up since she couldn't make it for various reasons. He did care about you, he wasn't heartless. He also had a soft spot for his younger sister, who he ended up spoiling day in and day out, so of course he'd do whatever she'd ask of him.

"I'm in my room," you whined, not being able to suspend your tears. You covered your tear stained face with your shaking hands while sitting up against the headboard on your bed. Varied sniffs and whines from your crying filled the house with sad sounds.

Justin used the noise as his guide to your room because he's never been there before. It hurts him to see anyone cry, so it was only instinct to help you stop anyway he could.

"Shh, Y/N, come on don't cry," he cooed, while making small steps to your fragile body. He sat on the edge of the bed in front of you and he pulled your hands away from your face. "Stop crying, just tell me what's wrong." He continued to whisper, encouraging you to tell him what could possibly be bothering you this much.

"I'm so stupid," you cried, gasping for air to fill your tightening lungs. This pain was indescribable, it would hurt so much to even begin to put the evil occurrence into words.

"Hey, Hey," he sternly said, scrunching his eyebrows together in disappointment. "You aren't stupid. Just tell me what's wrong."

He continued to make you feel comfortable and you eventually told him what's been on your mind and exactly what happened. He didn't take it well, not at all. Justin seemed to look at you as someone he cared about and on top of that, he never wanted to see someone he cared for hurting.

"I can't believe someone would take the time out of their day to do something like that to you. You shared your most sacred thoughts and feelings with him and he put it all out there for everyone to criticize."

"I feel so embarrassed. I didn't want anyone to know those things about me," you frowned, only tearing up here and there. The things that were said weren't horrible, it was just small impurities that you didn't like about yourself that your ex-asshole blasted on the Internet.

It didn't matter how many people saw it, but it was the fact that he had the nerve to spill your tea, all of it.

"Look, it's fine. No one is going to laugh at the things he posted. All of this is out of anger, I promise." He stood up and pulled you up from the sunk-in bed. You let him lead you to your bathroom that was located just a few steps away from your bed.

"I hate him," you cried even more. He kept you close and made sure to kiss your forehead while he watched you let it all out on his shirt through the mirror.

"I know," he whispered, kissing your forehead again. "Look at me, baby girl."

You slowly lifted your head and faced his tall figure. He took his hands and placed them on your cheeks.

"Stop crying. Everything that happened is now for the better of you."

"How do you know people aren't going to say anything. It's on the Internet and I know that people know him just as much as they know you."

"Look, just because we are famous does not mean everyone agrees with what we do."

"I just want to forget about this, but I can't. It hurts so much Justin."

He sighed, realizing that the only way you'd stop crying was if he got you to go to sleep. He studies your eyes and uses his thumb to wipe away a few tears that run down your cheeks.

He grabs a cloth from the linen closet and drenches it in cold water from the spotless sink. After ringing the excess water, he takes the damp cloth and lays it on your face.

He chuckled a bit, looking at your cloth covered head. It was green with little fabric strings scattered throughout.

"When I take this away from your face, I will see a dry face, with no tears. Right, Y/N?"

"...Right, Justin," you smiled underneath the fabric.

"Alright, 1. 2. 3." He lifted the towel and grinned after seeing that a fragile smile grew onto your lips. "That's what I like to see. Your beautiful face," he cooed, taking once again, the chance to kiss your forehead.

"I think my forehead loves your kisses," you giggled.

"Your lips might like them better," he smirked, resting his forehead on yours.

"J-Justin, I-I," you stuttered. Your eyes wide open, your mind no longer thinking of the jerk that you were angry with.

"Say my name, babe," he said, smirking harder than before.

"Justin, where did that come from," you smiled, thinking of this as a harmless joke. You thought he was too much of a close friend to feel any type of way about you.

"I guess it's just been hiding. But, get some sleep. I'll be back tomorrow around noon to check on you, probably with my sister of course." He pecked your lips before lightly caressing your smooth cheeks.

He guided you to your bed and tucked you in after making sure you were comfy when you laid down on your pillow.

"Go to sleep," he whispered once the light was off and he was standing by the door. "Goodnight, Y/N."
. . .
Part 2 coming next.
. . .
Check out Lone Father The Official Story.