Jack Barakat Imagines
"Don't Go"
Your POV
It was a Saturday evening and Jack and I were having yet another fight. Like our third one this week. It was really the only time we talked. He’d either ignore me completely or say like three words to me. He hadn’t stayed the night in forever. I was starting to think that he didn’t even love me anymore.
“Why are you being such a bitch?!” He yelled at me.
“I’m not being a bitch, you’re being a dick!” I yelled back. I hoped to God that my neighbors couldn’t hear us screaming at each other.
“What am I doing that’s so terrible?”
“Oh, I don’t know, I asked you a fucking question, and you didn’t even answer me? Or that you won’t tell me anything of what you’re thinking? Or that you don’t ever just come here to hang out. You only want to come over when I invite you, and even that is a chore?” I gasped for breath, because my anger was getting the best of me.
“Sorry for wanting to have a life! Jesus if you hate me so much then why don’t you just leave?!” He screamed at me, taking a step closer. The tears were brimming my eyes, mostly out of frustration. Was he even listening to anything I fucking said?
“I’m not the one who hates you! Where the fuck are you getting that from?! I actually try! Do you try?!”
He didn’t say anything just ran off into a different room that I didn’t pay attention to and slammed the door.
“Fine! If you want me to leave that fucking badly, I will! Even though this is my house!” I grabbed my purse and shit and made my way for the from door. My hand was on the doorknob when his voice cut through. The silent voice contrasting with our loud ones.
“Don’t go,” he said quietly enough for me to hear him.
I stopped moving, and dropped the knob from my grip. I turned around to face him and tears were falling down his face too. “Don’t let me,” I told him.
He came closer to me, rather slowly I might add, and took my hands. “I don’t want you to go.” He averted from my gaze and bit his lip nervously. What did he have to be nervous about?
“What’s wrong, Jack?” I ask him, my voice quivering from the flood of my emotions. “Just last month we were the happiest couple, and now we’re fighting like every other day. What gives? What am I doing wrong?” My voice cracks at the end.
“I don’t know, Y/N, I don’t know what’s wrong.” He took a strand of my hair and stroked it thoughtfully, still not looking directly into my face.
“I don’t want to fight anymore.”
“I don’t either.”
“What’re we going to do?” I tried to catch his gaze, but he still didn’t look at me. I pulled him over to the couch, hoping that relaxing him would get him to open up.
Jack didn’t respond to any of my questions, but rather just stared at the floor. When he glanced up, he turned toward my hands, doing anything he could to avoid my face.
“You haven’t done anything wrong, baby,” he said finally.
“Then why do you hate me.” Tears were streaming down my face, and he ran his hands through his hair.
“I don’t hate you, Y/N. If anything, I love you to death.” He looked at my face finally, but not my eyes. He wiped my tears with his thumb and fumbled around with his other hand.
“Something’s gotta give, Jack. There must be something.”
“It’s not your fault.” He said finally.
“Then whose is it?”
“Mine.”
“Why?” I was genuinely confused, he wasn’t all at fault. Was he? I must have done something to put him off.
“Because I’ve been distancing myself for a reason.”
“Why?” I asked again.
“My mom, she.. She has cancer. Breast cancer.”
My hand went up to cover my mouth in surprise. “What?”
“She was diagnosed last month, and I don’t know I guess it just put me off. It made me think how if you got cancer, I wouldn’t be able to bear it, so I guess I subconsciously avoided you. To avoid being hurt or left or something.”
I was at loss for words for a couple of minutes. Jack’s mom had breast cancer? He didn’t even tell me. I don’t think Alex even knew. “Jack, why didn’t you tell me?” I finally said after some silence.
“I didn’t know how. If I even tried, I’d probably end up crying, like I am now. I looked up at him, and sure enough he was. I instantly threw my arms around him.
“Hey, babe, it’s going to be okay, your mom is going to be okay. Don’t worry, okay?” I hated to see Jack cry. I’ve only seen it a couple times, and to be honest, I had no fucking idea how to deal with it. “What stage is it?” I whispered.
“Stage two,” he sniffled.
“That’s not too bad right? They have the cure for that, right? She’s going to be okay. She’s going to be okay.” I rested my head on his shoulder for comfort. “I’m always going to be here for you, as long as you still want me.”
“I do still want you,” he said quietly. “But what if you’re taken from me by something I can’t control?”
“Then I’ll fight like hell to get back to you.” I half-smiled at him in reassurance, and he wrapped his arm around me to pull me close.
“I’m sorry for fighting with you.”
“I’m sorry too, love.”
We sat there in comfortable silence hugging each other, comforting the other with our own heat. I held tighter and he did too.
“Y/N?” I looked up at him in response. “I love you so fucking much. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose my mom either. I just love you so much.” More tears fell down his face.
“You’re not going to lose me or your mom. We’re both here, babe. We’re both here. I love you too, I promise.” I kissed him on the cheek and he smiled a little bit, and for the first time in a while, he actually looked in my eyes. I knew instantly why he’d been avoiding my gaze. His eyes held pain behind them.
“You’re stronger than you think you are.” I grabbed his hand and kissed it. “You can get through it. I’m here to help, and I’m not leaving any time soon.
He placed his hand on my cheek and gave me a sad smile. “I sure hope so,” he whispered. He pulled my face close to his, and kissed my lips. It was small, calm, and held the most meaning than any other kisses I’ve ever had.
It was a Saturday evening and Jack and I were having yet another fight. Like our third one this week. It was really the only time we talked. He’d either ignore me completely or say like three words to me. He hadn’t stayed the night in forever. I was starting to think that he didn’t even love me anymore.
“Why are you being such a bitch?!” He yelled at me.
“I’m not being a bitch, you’re being a dick!” I yelled back. I hoped to God that my neighbors couldn’t hear us screaming at each other.
“What am I doing that’s so terrible?”
“Oh, I don’t know, I asked you a fucking question, and you didn’t even answer me? Or that you won’t tell me anything of what you’re thinking? Or that you don’t ever just come here to hang out. You only want to come over when I invite you, and even that is a chore?” I gasped for breath, because my anger was getting the best of me.
“Sorry for wanting to have a life! Jesus if you hate me so much then why don’t you just leave?!” He screamed at me, taking a step closer. The tears were brimming my eyes, mostly out of frustration. Was he even listening to anything I fucking said?
“I’m not the one who hates you! Where the fuck are you getting that from?! I actually try! Do you try?!”
He didn’t say anything just ran off into a different room that I didn’t pay attention to and slammed the door.
“Fine! If you want me to leave that fucking badly, I will! Even though this is my house!” I grabbed my purse and shit and made my way for the from door. My hand was on the doorknob when his voice cut through. The silent voice contrasting with our loud ones.
“Don’t go,” he said quietly enough for me to hear him.
I stopped moving, and dropped the knob from my grip. I turned around to face him and tears were falling down his face too. “Don’t let me,” I told him.
He came closer to me, rather slowly I might add, and took my hands. “I don’t want you to go.” He averted from my gaze and bit his lip nervously. What did he have to be nervous about?
“What’s wrong, Jack?” I ask him, my voice quivering from the flood of my emotions. “Just last month we were the happiest couple, and now we’re fighting like every other day. What gives? What am I doing wrong?” My voice cracks at the end.
“I don’t know, Y/N, I don’t know what’s wrong.” He took a strand of my hair and stroked it thoughtfully, still not looking directly into my face.
“I don’t want to fight anymore.”
“I don’t either.”
“What’re we going to do?” I tried to catch his gaze, but he still didn’t look at me. I pulled him over to the couch, hoping that relaxing him would get him to open up.
Jack didn’t respond to any of my questions, but rather just stared at the floor. When he glanced up, he turned toward my hands, doing anything he could to avoid my face.
“You haven’t done anything wrong, baby,” he said finally.
“Then why do you hate me.” Tears were streaming down my face, and he ran his hands through his hair.
“I don’t hate you, Y/N. If anything, I love you to death.” He looked at my face finally, but not my eyes. He wiped my tears with his thumb and fumbled around with his other hand.
“Something’s gotta give, Jack. There must be something.”
“It’s not your fault.” He said finally.
“Then whose is it?”
“Mine.”
“Why?” I was genuinely confused, he wasn’t all at fault. Was he? I must have done something to put him off.
“Because I’ve been distancing myself for a reason.”
“Why?” I asked again.
“My mom, she.. She has cancer. Breast cancer.”
My hand went up to cover my mouth in surprise. “What?”
“She was diagnosed last month, and I don’t know I guess it just put me off. It made me think how if you got cancer, I wouldn’t be able to bear it, so I guess I subconsciously avoided you. To avoid being hurt or left or something.”
I was at loss for words for a couple of minutes. Jack’s mom had breast cancer? He didn’t even tell me. I don’t think Alex even knew. “Jack, why didn’t you tell me?” I finally said after some silence.
“I didn’t know how. If I even tried, I’d probably end up crying, like I am now. I looked up at him, and sure enough he was. I instantly threw my arms around him.
“Hey, babe, it’s going to be okay, your mom is going to be okay. Don’t worry, okay?” I hated to see Jack cry. I’ve only seen it a couple times, and to be honest, I had no fucking idea how to deal with it. “What stage is it?” I whispered.
“Stage two,” he sniffled.
“That’s not too bad right? They have the cure for that, right? She’s going to be okay. She’s going to be okay.” I rested my head on his shoulder for comfort. “I’m always going to be here for you, as long as you still want me.”
“I do still want you,” he said quietly. “But what if you’re taken from me by something I can’t control?”
“Then I’ll fight like hell to get back to you.” I half-smiled at him in reassurance, and he wrapped his arm around me to pull me close.
“I’m sorry for fighting with you.”
“I’m sorry too, love.”
We sat there in comfortable silence hugging each other, comforting the other with our own heat. I held tighter and he did too.
“Y/N?” I looked up at him in response. “I love you so fucking much. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose my mom either. I just love you so much.” More tears fell down his face.
“You’re not going to lose me or your mom. We’re both here, babe. We’re both here. I love you too, I promise.” I kissed him on the cheek and he smiled a little bit, and for the first time in a while, he actually looked in my eyes. I knew instantly why he’d been avoiding my gaze. His eyes held pain behind them.
“You’re stronger than you think you are.” I grabbed his hand and kissed it. “You can get through it. I’m here to help, and I’m not leaving any time soon.
He placed his hand on my cheek and gave me a sad smile. “I sure hope so,” he whispered. He pulled my face close to his, and kissed my lips. It was small, calm, and held the most meaning than any other kisses I’ve ever had.
@SecretsDontMakeFriends
RIGHT SOMEONE POINTED THAT OUT ON MY WATTPAD VERSION AND I WAS LIKE ???? how did i do that I'm magical
9/19/16