Oneshot Book: Lana Del Rey Edition

*ANGST* || Crying In Your Sweatshirt

Lana Del Rey x M!OC

Inspired by Happiness is a butterfly

This oneshot is going to have multiple parts. May get it's own separate book depending on how I feel about it.

Word Count: 1,868

Lana's POV

Ambrose and I were currently walking from my car in the parking lot, to the bar. It was a pretty chill night, the wind proving my point as a small, but cold, gust blew against my front, making me wrap my arms tighter around myself in Ambrose's hoodie as I shivered.

Looking at him, he has the same distant gaze he's had this whole night. Seems like this whole month, actually. He's been so distant this past month, and I don't know why. He doesn't hold me at night anymore, use those little pet names of his that he calls me, he doesn't even kiss me on the forehead in the morning anymore. Which he's always done.

Tonight, he finally said yes to coming out with me. I've been trying to get him to go every week, trying not to push him too hard on it, and finally he's coming. We used to go out every week, and he'd always take me somewhere I haven't been before, or somewhere that's very special to us. But not anymore. He wakes up, goes to work, and comes back, only to go to sleep again.

Meaning I also haven't gotten any action whatsoever. And that alone is enough to drive me insane.

Eventually, we made it to the bar, and it seems as though Ambrose at least hasn't lost his manners, as he holds the door open for me. I smile at him warmly, walking inside. Looking around, I survey the room as the heat tries it's hardest to warm me up. Rubbing my hands and arms, I see that there aren't too many people here tonight. Which is odd for a Friday night, but perfect for us.

I turn to Ambrose and grab him by the hand, smiling. He smiles back at me and squeezes my hand, pleasantly surprising me. I walk us over to the bar and sit down on a stool. Ambrose takes a seat in the one next to me, letting go of my hand to lean on the bar, as I do the same. The bartender notices us and comes our way, a most likely fake smile plastered on his face.

"What can I get you two, tonight?"

"I'll take a Bud Light."

Ambrose put a five dollar bill down on the bar top, the amount needed for the beer.

"I'll have some Syrah, if you have it."

"Luckily for you, we do."

I smiled at the man and put down a ten dollar bill. He took the money with a smile of thanks, putting it in the register before going to get my wine. After he had poured a glass, he grabbed a Bud Light, popped the cap off, and handed it to Ambrose, who gave a nod of thanks.

We sat there, in silence, drinking our alcohol. Usually, we'd be telling each other how our day had gone, or what we planned on doing tomorrow. But that was something of the past. We haven't done that for weeks. I just want to know how he's doing, but he won't tell me. I know he isn't okay, but he won't let me help him either.

"Anything new happening at work?"

He looked up at me, before looking down at the bar top, taking a swig of his beer.

"No, not really."

I sighed subtly, bringing my glass up to my lips, and taking a sip.

We sit there, in silence, for the next several minutes. I eventually finish my glass of wine and ask for another, drinking this one a bit faster.