Joe Keery Imagines

A Tricky Thing Called Trust-Joe Keery

The last three months have been the worst three months of my life. Each one was worse than the one before. Three months ago, my boyfriend, Lucas broke up with me. He didn't really give me an explanation. He just said that he was getting bored and felt like our relationship was starting to get bland.

The breakup sent me into a dark pit of depression. I shut myself up and blocked out everything and everyone. The only person who could get through the darkness was Joe.

After the breakup, I called Joe sobbing. He rushed over and stayed with me all night. We fell asleep on the couch, binge-watching our favorite show. The next morning, I woke up with my depression episode already in full motion.

Joe stayed with me for a couple of days, but he eventually had to leave for work. When he left, my depression officially started to feel like I was suffocating. I stayed in bed and didn't move for days. Joe called me every day to make sure I was okay. I pretended I was fine, for his sake, but he saw right through me.

I've been getting worse with the more time that passed. Three months and I haven't slept, I've barely eaten, and I haven't left my bed. My phone kept ringing, but I didn't have the strength to get out of bed and grab it.

It kept going off until it finally stopped. Ten minutes after it stopped, there was a knock at my apartment door. I ignored it at first but they kept knocking. I slowly sat up and shakily made my way to the door. I opened it to see Joe standing there.

"Why haven't you been answering your phone?" He asked.

I tried to answer him, but I got dizzy. Joe jumped forward when my knees gave out. He didn't say anything as he easily picked me up bridal style. He carried me back into my apartment and to my bedroom. He laid me down, pulling the blanket up to my shoulders.

"When was the last time you had anything to eat?" He asked gently.

"I don't know," I said weakly. Joe sighed as he moved some hair out of my face.

"I'm going to go make you something," he said softly. "Stay here until I get back."

I was in and out of sleep as I heard Joe moving around in the kitchen. A little while later, the door opened back up. He didn't say anything as he helped me sit up. He put pillows behind me and handed me the sandwich he made.

Joe pulled my desk chair over to my bed and sat next to me while I ate. When I was done, he took the plate from me.

"I know you're mad," I whispered.

"I'm not mad," he sighed. "When you opened the door, you were so pale. . . It scared me, Y/N. I've never seen you like this."

I opened and closed my mouth, struggling to hold back my sob. It finally broke through when he grabbed my hand.

"I'm not doing well," I said through my sobs.

Joe jumped up and instantly laid down next to me. He wrapped his arms tightly around me as he pulled me into his chest. He rubbed my back and let me sob into his shirt.

"I know you're not," he sighed. "I'm here now and I'm going to help you get better. I promise."

* * * * *

Joe's been staying with me since I almost passed out. He's been taking care of me, making sure I eat and don't go to bed too late. The few times he's had to run an errand or go meet his manager, he'd make sure I knew that if I needed anything, his phone would be on.

Joe got back from a late lunch meeting with his manager and I was still laying on the couch. He hung his keys by the door and kicked off his shoes. I didn't look away from the tv as he walked in and stood behind the couch.