Josh Dun x Reader

Moment

Warnings: Breakup, angst, alcohol usage, brief mention of death of a family member

Word Count: 819

Author's Note: This is my 100th fic! Kind of. I guess technically it's my 100th post, but all of those 100 posts have at least been part of a fic. Anyway, I'm rambling, just wanted to say a quick thank you to all of you that have stuck around for all 100 of these posts. I suppose it's kind of fitting that this is angsty, don't you think?

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"Y/N, please," I said, catching her arm as she headed for the door.

"Don't touch me," she muttered, pulling away from my grasp. "I already told you it's over."

I looked into her eyes. They were shining the same bright Y/E/C as when I had first met her outside of a venue a few years back. She had been hurriedly talking on her phone with tears streaming down her face and I had asked if she wanted to come inside until she calmed down. We had ended up talking until the very last moment before I had to get on stage and the rest was history.

"We can make this work, I know we can."

She reached up and brushed her hair back in her hands. I wanted to reach forward and place a hand on her tear-stained cheek, tell her that it was ok, and pull her into my chest, but those days were over.

"That's what you don't understand, Josh. We can't."

"You didn't even give us a chance."

"I did, Josh. And it didn't work. It's over, just stop trying to fight this."

"Fine, then just go. Please."

She grabbed her things and left without another word. I stood and stared at the door waiting for... something. A knock. A phone call. Anything. Anything to let me know that she wasn't gone for good.

I lost track of how long I ended up standing there, frozen in place. It wasn't until Jim came and began to paw at my feet that I finally managed to get myself to move. All I needed was to take one deep, shaking breath. Then another. And another.

The bucket of dog food rattled in my shaking hands as I pulled it down from the shelf. Jim wasn't running circles around my feet like he usually did at dinnertime. He just sat there, watching me carefully as I filled his bowl to the brim and tossed the bin back into the cupboard.

I started to walk towards my office, but stopped myself before I had even made it halfway down the hall. My feet carried me to exactly where I needed to be: standing in front of the fridge. My hands moved without conscious thought, grabbing the bottle of vodka from its place buried behind cookbooks that were touched just as rarely as it was.

I unscrewed the cap, bypassing the need for a shot glass to instead take a swig straight from the bottle. The alcohol burned the back of my throat, but I didn't mind. The burning was good. I could feel it.

Feel something.

I took another long drink of alcohol before sliding slowly to the ground. The tile of the kitchen floor was cool against the back of my legs, providing a stark contrast to the sticky, summer air that filled the rest of the apartment.

My head was already starting to swim and my vision was growing blurry at the edges. Alcohol burned the back of my throat as I threw the bottle back again. I just needed to shut my mind off. Fill it with something other than memories of her.

Her.

I thought back to the night her dad died. We had sat on the kitchen floor, right where I was now, for hours while she cried into my chest. I had sat with her and stroked her hair, telling her that I was there. That I would never leave her. Never leave her side.

Maybe that hadn't been so true, after all.

Jim walked over to where I was rested on the ground. Tears had started to form in my eyes, but I wasn't so sure if that was because of the situation or the alcohol. He climbed into my lap and laid down, trying his best to fit his entire body onto the space on top of my legs.

"I'm fine," I exhaled, scratching at his ears. "I just need a moment."

He turned and looked up at me, wagging his tail slowly against my legs. I screwed the top back on the bottle and set it on the tile next to me. My head was swimming so I leaned back against the cabinets, closing my eyes. Visions of Y/N danced behind my eyelids. I snapped them back open.

What had I done wrong?

I wiped away a tear with the back of my hand. Jim adjusted himself on my legs, pushing himself further up against my chest. My arms felt heavy as I moved them up to rub at his back again. The back of my throat still felt raw, but the pain was slowly beginning to subside. Some of it, anyway.

If only the pain of her leaving would fade that fast.

"I'm alright right here on the floor, bud," I slurred. "It's ok."

Just a moment. That's all I needed. Then I would be fine.