≫ a collection of imagines for some of my favourite fictional characters and celebrities, part two.
(Gifs used are from google images, so credit to their rightful owners!)
I also post these imagines on tumblr x
summary: as you and Skye try to relearn how to be friends again, you realise it's harder than you thought.
warning/s: mentions of injury, substance abuse, poor mental health and basically everything Skye goes through oof.
author's note: here's part 2! so sorry it was delayed, i've been stuffed with cold for the past few days so didn't have chance to share it. Hope this makes up for it anyway :)
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"...and I'm just outside your building now," I said to Skye over the phone, lingering outside.
"I was just about to call," she said in a rushed voice, sounding apologetic. "I'm running late, but I'm almost there. Give or take ten minutes. You can head straight up. The doorman knows to let you in and the spare key is in the same place as always."
I hesitated at her response.
It wasn't a big deal, I'd been to her apartment many times, but it had also been a year since I'd last been and it felt strange to go up alone. Especially because I was just supposed to be meeting her to go out, not actually going inside.
"Oh, I can just wait outside, it's okay," I said, maybe a little too quickly, but she didn't seem to notice.
"No, it's fine, you head up, I'll be with you soon," she assured me, before I heard a sound in the background. "I gotta go. See you in ten!"
I chewed my lip before putting my phone away and heading straight inside. As Skye said, the doorman recognised me and let me straight up, and it felt odd. The last time I'd been in the lift, I was crying on the way down from that awful argument between Skye and I. I hadn't been back since – I'd had no need to. But now...
It wasn't the same, I had to remind myself of that. She wasn't the same. None of this was.
Over the past few weeks, we'd somewhat returned to how things used to be, but it was all baby steps. Being each other's friend was second nature, and yet moments like this sometimes had me stumbling in the dark.
I found her door at the end of the hall, digging out the spare key from behind the framed painting next to it. A stupid place to keep it I'd always thought, but the whole place was guarded anyway so it didn't matter.
After opening the door, I returned the key to its spot before letting myself in. Everything looked the same as I last remembered it, and I didn't want to admit it to myself, but I'd missed it. I still remembered when she bought it and moved in, after her career picked up overnight. We'd had countless movie nights here, sleepovers that lasted days sometimes, and it just brought back so many memories. Good, as well as bad, but I tried not to focus on the latter.
I began to walk around aimlessly, waiting for her to return, eyeing the cabinet full of awards, the framed albums, admiring the penthouse view from her living room, and then I came across some framed photos hung on the wall. Some were of her and her mum when she was a kid, others were as she grew up, and then I spotted a familiar one.