Matt Espinosa Imagines

Broken Promises | part 1 | Request

You know how in the movies the girl always either falls in love with the hottest guy in school, or her best friend? How there's always the cliche kiss and everything works out in the end? I was beginning to think that my life was the complete opposite. Everything was okay before; Matt was my best friend from second grade up until now, our senior year. I had been there for him every step of the way. Every football game, every mess up, every time a girl broke his heart, little old me, Paris Campbell, was everywhere and anywhere just for him.

But a year ago, something had changed inside me. Every thought of Matt made my stomach erupt in butterflies, and my face flushed red hot with any touch from him. Matt would run his fingers through his mop of brown, soft hair, and I couldn't handle it anymore. Whenever he would cuddle up on me during one of our many movie marathons, my heart would beat like crazy, and I imagined it to look like one of those Tom and Jerry episodes where you could literally see Tom's heart coming out of his chest.

I had realized my true feelings for Matt when we took our annual family trip to the beach. Well, Matt's family, but I always went along because they were basically my family, too. We had gotten there and the hot sand squished between our toes, making it sting my feet. Matt, being the sweetheart he is, let me jump up on his back. I ran my fingers through his hair, cuddling my chin into his neck. I breathed him in. Everything he was, was all my surroundings. His smile, his laugh, his happiness, all filling me. I could smell his scent. Not his cologne, but his actual scent. You know how everyone has a certain smell to them? Usually its something from their house, like detergent or a cinnamon candle that's always burning. Matt had this sweet, warm smell to him, like walking into a flower shop the day before Valentine's Day or walking into a small, local bakery that had just finished icing a cake. And I couldn't stop thinking about it. It's not like I had never smelled it before, but this time it was just different, for some odd reason. When Matt sat me down for a moment so he could lay out the beach towel, I got a good look at him: his brow hair was full of golden highlights from the sun's rays; his warm, brown eyes were iridescent in he outside light; his skin was on the verge of popping out into a nice, dark tan, which would make his slightly toned biceps look large. His long fingers reached at the fraying end of his old, white tee, and with a slow, yet swift, motion, he threw it to the ground. My eyes widened at him. I had never looked at Matt in this type of way, had never felt these feelings toward him. Sadly, I wasn't stupid, I had felt the feeling of butterflies before, and I knew what that meant. That day it was more than just plain, old butterflies; it was like every single possible emotion was eating me alive, and I felt as if I were about to throw up all over the gorgeous beach. I liked Matt. Sure, I had always thought he was cute, but there was no true meaning or feeling behind it, up until this point. I'm not sure what had changed inside me, but something did, and I honestly wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing.

I remember the vacation distinctly, especially the last day: it was our last night at the beach before heading back home, and neither Matt nor I wanted to stay inside the resort room, even though his parents did. His siblings had went to a club, since they were older, so Matt and I couldn't get it without fake IDs, but his parents would kill us. So we watched the tv in the hotel. It was crappy, but being cuddled in Matt's chest made it bearable. Matt had quickly jumped up during Sky High, making me almost die of a heart attack.

"Go get dressed, put on something nice," he smiled before running off to his room. "I'll be back in an hour!" He yelled behind him.

So I did just that. I fixed my hair and makeup, putting on a cute summer dress I had bought on the boardwalk when we went the other day. I slipped on some sandals. Surprisingly, all this, which seemed like nothing, took almost an hour.

When Matt got me, we headed out. There was a nice and quaint restaurant sitting on the campus of the resort, one I had only noticed about twice, but quickly forgot about.

"You look beautiful, Paris," Matt cheesed when he greeted me at my room door. He was wearing a nice button up with nice pants. His hair was styled in its normal way, just more intact and soft. He smelled distinctly of after shave and my favorite cologne of his: Calvin Klein.

He engulfed me in a hug, and I couldn't deny how I felt. The way I felt when I could smell his cologne, cuddle into him; it was amazing.

Over dinner we discussed many things, such as our friends back home, what we wanted to eat, the guy at the table across from us that was trying way too hard to look like Josh Dun.

We ordered mozzarella sticks as an appetizer, I taking all the marinara, since it was my favorite. Matt chuckled as I swatted away his hand, guarding as much of the sauce as I could.

"You know, Paris," Matt said as he sipped sparingly on his Coke, a slight smile twitched upon his nice, pink, plump lips. "You have been such an amazing, caring, more than I deserve, friend, and I can't thank you enough. So I got you this..."

His words dwindled away as his hand fished inside his pocket. He pulled out a small, square box.

"I love you so much, Paris Campbell, and I can't thank you enough for what you've done for me. So here's a gift, a representation of everything oh are to me: a promise ring. My promise is to never betray you, and always be here for you. I hope you never forget that."

Matt slid the sparkling, silver ring on my dainty finger, the middle stone was a heart that shone brightly every time the light hit it.

I sat up in my seat, leaned across the table, and planted a light kiss on his cheek. The apples of his cheeks flushed a small red color but quickly faded. The dinner was lovely, as well as everything after. Well, up until this moment, anyway.

Because I guess that's the thing about promises and memories:

We break promises, and memories break us.

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REQUEST FOR Handwritten1998  ! I hope you like it, darlin! I'm working on part two & can't wait to finish it for you. Once again, sorry for the wait! X