Crush Imagines

Meet Me at Dawn

I normally try to avoid using parents directly because ik everyone's family is different but in this one it was unavoidable, make any mental adjustments if you need to, I try to make these as generalisable to everyone as possible.

"Can you help me set up for this morning's assembly?" Your dad asked, popping his head around the door to your room.

"Dad!" You exclaimed, exasperated, from where you lay on your bed re-reading your favourite imagine in stripedgiraffe's Wattpad collection. "I'm off sick! I'm meant to be resting and recuperating!"

"Ah, my bad, clearly you're reading genius literature by a highly intelligent author - sorry, I came out of character there, must channel my Inner Dad

"Lying there killing braincells and absorbing radiation on your phone isn't going to revive you! A spot of light manual labour will be just the trick. Besides, you're very clearly at the tail end now, might as well get some fresh air in your lungs before you have to face school again tomorrow." His head was still disembodied as it poked around your door, making you struggle to take him seriously. But you knew he'd persist until you conceded, so you decided to cut the process down and give in sooner rather than later.

"Fine! Do I need to get dressed?" You sighed.

"Well, there's always the risk of being seen by some of the boys, so you may as well make yourself look mildly presentable." Your dad grinned teasingly. "Meet me at the doorway in ten minutes." The head disappeared.

Oh joy. When your dad had become headmaster at this all boys boarding school, you hadn't bargained for becoming his unpaid personal assistant. But there always seemed to be some little thing he needed you to do for him, even when your health was meant to have rendered you incapacitated.

Sluggishly, you rolled out of bed and pulled on a hoodie and jogging bottoms - nice ones - and stared into the mirror. Deciding you really could not for the life of you be arsed, you slapped the absolute bare minimum of makeup onto your face. "That'll do," you muttered to yourself, before heading out the door and down the stairs. You clattered your way into the kitchen, where your dad was waiting for you by the door that joined your house to the rest of the school.

"Take your time," he said sarcastically as you headed straight to the cupboard and grabbed a cereal bar.

"Alright, alright!" You put your hands up in surrender. "Let's go."

You followed him through the door and down the long wood panelled corridor which led to the main network of school corridors and classrooms. There was an abnormally large bay window halfway down the corridor with a plush velvet window seat that you used to hide out in all the time when you'd first moved, but hadn't been to in a while. You glanced at it wistfully as you passed. Maybe you'd visit it again later.

Eventually you made it to the modern school interior which contrasted so greatly with the seemingly ancient exterior of the building. After following your dad through what felt like 225476 corridors and a large courtyard, you finally reached the main auditorium. The seats stretched up and away from the flat floor level performance space. Well, it was mostly flat.

"Dad!" You groaned, gesturing at the various pieces of stage/platform waiting to be assembled. "You didn't tell me this entailed heavy lifting!"

"You didn't ask," he grinned.

"I'm literally ill! And I'm weak even when I'm not! Why didn't you learn from last time you made me do this? Why do you even need the stage anyway? Surely the whole point of the auditorium shape is that you don't?" You let out a deep breath, having temporarily run out of things to whine about.