Celebrity Imagines

Demi Lovato

Apologies

Demi tossed in her sleep. She couldn't sleep. From the shirt she was in, the pillow she was cuddling to the moon shining outside her room, everything reminded her of you. Finally, after fighting a battle with her own self, she sat up lazily with devilish hair and smudged mascara that she had been too sleepy to wipe. Where did that sleep go?

She walked over to her balcony, reminiscing the nights you both spend there together, whether it was smoking away the toxins or just a drag after a long day. Demi sat on one of the floral decorated chairs and stared at the moon. The big bright ball of light reminded her of you. The touch of chill by the night reminded her of your touch. The shivers on her body made her memorize your effect on her.

It was excruciating, Demi thought. While you were in your bed and possibly dreaming about irrelevant things while snoring softly, all she could do was think about you.

Demi even tried counting the stars but they appeared too minute and difficult to take count of. Sometimes she wondered if those were stars or just her hallucinating.

Her fingers involuntary traced one of her tattoos. The most significant one because you both had gotten them together. While yours was on the bottom of your left breast, the popular tattoo location closest to your heart, Demi had hers on her wrists because, even mistakingly, she stares at her hand more than any body part.

She longed for your presence, your touch, or least your voice. She wanted to deny that fact; Demi Lovato wanted to forget about you because you were as nostalgic as her childhood, the difference being that her childhood wasn't painful. You brought memories, some she wanted to cherish and some she needed to wipe away.

Why am I thinking about you, Demi questioned bitterly to herself. After all you did to her, after all that you put her through, her heart was still beating for you.

The phone on Demi's nightstand lit up. She wondered who could that be, a part of her hoping it's you. She stumbled back in her room in the dark. Demi grabbed her cold phone and went back to sit where she was seated previously. Opening the message, Demi tucked her knees under her chin and balanced her phone on them.

I'm sorry, the message read. On top of the chats was an emoji of the night and a shooting star. Similar to your tattoos.

I know you're probably sleeping but I needed to put this up that I can't stop thinking about you.

The message was enough to have Demi nervous and colder than before. She looked up at the moon thinking about how you must be staring at the same moon that she is, meaning that you guys must be indirectly looking at each other. She muttered an 'I miss you' under her breath as her eyes poured the tears she had been trying to suppress.

One drop after another, then the speed became rapid, drops turned into streams flowing down her cheeks. The phone lit up again. Demi wanted to check what you had written once again but her eyes put a blurry curtain in front to block the tiny black letters into making sense.

She furiously wiped her hot tears away and read what you had sent her once again.

I'm sorry. For whatever I've done to you, whatever I've put you through. None of it was my intention. When we first started dating I never thought we would come this far together. And if I hadn't packed my bags and left without telling you, we would've gone even further.

Demi slammed her phone down. She couldn't read anymore. She tried to block out the memories of you, the fond ones especially because they hurt the most. The phone dinged again and again until it stopped finally. She sat there for an eternity below the glow of the moon, amid the sobs of her own cries, all she could head was the rustling of leaves and the whispers of the wind passing by her ears.  And then she heard the rapid footsteps of someone approaching increasing by second. From the rails of her balcony, she peeked at the person who stopped right in front of her. It was you.

You were hyperventilating. It wasn't just the adrenaline or lack of air in your lungs causing that, it was the woman you were about to meet after so long.

Run away with me, you wanted to scream at her but didn't. You saw her looking at you, her expression was unreadable in the dark. But she was looking at you, it was enough at the moment.

Your flight arrived just half an hour ago and you had sprinted through the security in search of a cab outside the airport. You found one soon. You told him the address to Demi's house. The driver drove at the maximum speed legally allowed, but it still wasn't fast enough. You had wanted to see her so bad, it almost became a need. You paid the driver and left the cab halfway the path. And you ran all the way from there just to meet her a second earlier.

Maybe that second could change her mind and she would forgive you. You were ready to leave the job you left Demi for, you understood it wasn't worth it 

But that wasn't what she wanted to do. Demi noticed every small detail about you from afar. Your bag was secured on your shoulders and your hair was sticking to your neck and you were huffing for air. She wiped her hot tears furiously and clenched her jaw. How bad she wanted to hug you but she held back and instead grabbed her phone and typed in a text to you.

Leave me alone, it read. Demi went inside and closed the door behind her. You quickly fished out your phone and your heart broke at the message. Maybe you deserved it, you thought and turned around. With every step you took, your feet got heavier and your head lighter. You called an uber and decided to sit on one of the benches out there.

Demi, on the other hand, refused to feel any remorse. After she locked her balcony door, she collapsed on the bed. Her eyes didn't shed any tears but her heart ached in pain. It was brave what she had just done. She took her revenge finally. Demi knew that she would heal from this trauma if she shut you out completely. Soon. I want to rediscover myself, she decided, I want to love myself before I let anyone else love me. I want to rely on myself to be loved.

She walked out on you, just like you did a few months ago and somehow it acted as an adhesive to her shattered heart.

Seeing you again had retrieved the part of her that she lost to you, and so even without you, Demi felt complete.

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Why is writing in 3rd person so deep and depressing? Anyway did u like ittt