♡Sweetheart♡ ||Brendon Urie x Reader||

Chapter 2

Yes, I changed the title of this book from Hearts Don't Heal Memories to Sweetheart. Partly because it's shorter, partly because it could fuel later plot line.
Hope you enjoy!

I sighed. "Fine, why not? I'll stay here just for tonight." So many other people have done it and claimed it was amazing, so why not give it a shot?

Mr. Urie smiled warmly, and his eyes lit up. "I'm relieved. I really didn't want you trying to drive out there. I saw it was going to be absolutely terrible."

Did he actually care? I thought he was just being creepy or trying to act civil while giving me the option.

"I'll lead you to the room you'll be staying in for your short visit," he said and began walking.

"Um, yes sir."

He halted and immediately turned to face me. "Brendon is just fine, darling."

And now he wanted me to call him his first name. "Let me guess, you also don't let any other girl call you your first name?"

Brendon frowned. "That's actually wrong. I prefer being called my first name like everyone else because calling me by my last name or something formal feels like they're holding me to a different human worth than everyone else. I'm the same as the last guy."

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Explain that again, please. And slowly. You can't speak about something like that that fast and expect me to keep up."

"Of course." Brendon smiled and took a step forward to grasp my hand. "Everyone else is called by their first name, but I'm not. It feels like they're making me seem more important, you know? I'm the exact same as everyone else."

"Sure, the same as everyone else but with loads of money, girls crawling all over you, and a strange fashion sense."

He frowned again. "None of that matters, [y/n]. I'm still a normal human being." Brendon turned away from me again and began to lead me down the hallway.

So, my annoyance with him had gone a little overboard and caused me to say a few things. . .

When he turned away, though, he didn't seem angry or impatient with me, he just looked like he wanted to get me to my room. But I noticed one detail in particular that shocked me. "Mr. Urie, how do you know my name?"

He continued walking, didn't show his face or turn around, but I heard a chuckle escape his lips and a, "I know a lot of things, [y/n]."

The slur on my name didn't help my already-weak-knees. "And how do you know these things, exactly?"

"You'll learn, sweetheart."

That was an obvious sign he wasn't telling me anytime soon.

Finally he managed to get me to my room, and I sat myself on the comfy memory foam bed that hugged my legs as I sat, and he came and placed himself beside me.

"So," I started, "I'll be living here when my father starts his work?" Mr. Urie had a system where he supported his butler's' and maid's' families, and since I was the only person who lived with my father, Mr. Urie thought it would be easier if he just got me a room in his house.

"No, no. Not here. My other house."

Only Mr. Urie and his maids and butlers had ever been in there, and now here I am, being fully allowed inside. Instead of answering with something stupid, I played with the bed sheets, feeling them in between my fingers.

"Again, I am truly sorry for before," Mr. Urie spoke softly, referencing the kiss.

It would be a lie to say I didn't enjoy it. "It's fine, really."