I Know - Grayson Dolan Imagine
Requested?- Erm, no… Sorry!
Word Count- 1.3k
Author’s Note- Hi, so I know I have a bunch of requests and I am a little shit for posting something you guys didn’t request but I promise you I am working on them. It’s just that the one I’m currently writing is taking ages and this was half written in my notes so I thought why not finish it?? Anyway, I’m pretty sure this is trash but here you go anyway.
You’d first met Grayson at a house party. It’d been right at the beginning of the last year of high school. You’d just moved to the town and even though house parties weren’t really your thing, you’d accepted the girl in your science class’ invitation, convincing yourself it’d be a good opportunity to make friends.
It had been going ok until you’d almost been pushed to the ground by a ridiculously tall person. Letting out a highly unattractive squeal, you’d just about regained your balance when you noticed the red stain across the front of your white top. And yes, it probably wasn’t the best idea to wear a white top to a house party where you’d known there would be drunk kids stumbling about but hey, neither was balancing three bowls of salsa as you made your way through a crowded room. And the guy who’d done it had just stared at you, not even looking down to notice the fact that one of the salsa bowls was now held at a ridiculously awkward angle that was causing it to drip all over the floor.
It was only after you’d cried out and straightened his hand that he’d seemed to realise what had happened.
“Sorry!” He’d exclaimed, looking at your shirt in horror and you weren’t a rude person normally but this top hadn’t exactly been cheap and he wasn’t being useful at all so you’d just glared at him, shaking your head in annoyance before looking back down at the ruined garment in dismay.
“I need tissues,” you’d murmured and he’d filled with guilt at the clear despair on your face.
“I’ll get them,” he’d insisted, running off into the crowd before you’d been able to tell him ‘no, thanks, you were fully capable of getting your own tissues.’
Ethan had been shaking his head in disbelief at Grayson as he’d walked up to his friends.
“Do any of you have any tissues?” He’d asked, placing the ketchups down on a nearby table.
“I can’t believe you just did that,” Ethan’d said, looking at Grayson in dumbfounded awe.
“Tissues. Yes or no?” He’d asked again, wiggling his ketchup covered fingers in front of his friends’ faces, not bothering to point out that it was Ethan who’d nominated Grayson to bring over the salsa bowls from the kitchen so that they had something to dip the tortilla chips they’d found into.
Liam had been the one to dig them out and hand them over.
“She’s hot,” Ethan had piped up as Grayson wiped his fingers.
Nodding, Grayson had chucked a dirty tissue onto the table as he glanced back at you. “I’m gonna get her number.”
There’d been a collective snort of disbelief at that as everyone watched Grayson make his way back towards you, tissues outstretched in his hand like a peace offering.
He’d returned hours later with a dumbstruck smile and your number in his phone.
And he’d messaged you the day after. And the day after that. And the day after that. Until it became as much of your daily routine as brushing your teeth. The two of you meeting up for lazy afternoons together or late night adventures, both of you too shy to put a label on the time you spent together.
“You want some blanket?” Grayson had offered on one winter afternoon as you’d watched the fourth Harry Potter film.
You’d nodded shyly and he’d gestured for you to join him under his and you’d shuffled closer, feeling actual butterflies spinning clumsily around in your stomach as he’d tucked you into his side.
“You guys make me sick,” Ethan had commented before stuffing his face with popcorn, chuckling at how embarrassed the both of you looked. Grayson had tensed, worried that the comment would be enough to scare you back to your side of the sofa but you’d stayed pressed against him, lip drawn between your teeth.
He’d tried to watch the movie but he couldn’t help stealing glances at you, his heart swelling with affection at you mouthing the words along with the characters and god, he’d never been more glad that he was a clumsy giant who went around spilling salsa on pretty girls.
“I’m gonna ask her to be my girlfriend,” Grayson had announced to Ethan once you’d left as they’d headed to bed.
Ethan had laughed. “You can ask but she’s saying no, buddy. Waaay out of your league.”
Grayson had let out a huff. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
He hadn’t needed it. Two weeks later, when he’d finally worked up the courage to ask you, you’d turned to him with your beautiful smile and murmured yes before pressing your lips to his.
“I love you!” You cried out, placing a sloppy kiss to Grayson’s jaw, wrinkling your nose at the prickly feeling of his stubble. “Did you know that?”
He chuckled, arm tightening on your waist as he tried to steady you with one hand, opening the door to his car with the other. “I love you too.”
Another chuckle. “Yes, a lot.”
“Good,” you stated before darting forward to kitten lick his collar bone.
He laughed at your drunken actions, pushing you away and into the back seat of the car.
“I’ve said this 1000 times but you guys genuinely make me sick,” Ethan said, walking up to the passenger side as he wrinkled his nose at you in disgust.
“Thanks- your face genuinely makes me sick.” you grinned widely, far too pleased with your childish comeback before taking Grayson’s hand in yours as you moved further into the car. “Come on.”
“Y/N, no, I’m driving.”
You stopped, turning to face him with a pout on your face. “Why?”
Grayson glanced from you to his twin brother who was waiting expectantly near the hood of the car.
“Ethan can drive,” you insisted, tugging Grayson towards where you were half sat in the back seat. All you wanted was to kiss your boyfriend senseless. Even after all these years, he still had the butterflies in your stomach going crazy with just one look and, God, how you craved that look.
Grayson glanced up towards his brother, eyebrows raised in silent question.
Ethan rolled his eyes, groaning. “Yeah, whatever. As long as you promise not to make out.”
“Promise!” You called out quickly, pulling Grayson’s hand again as you shuffled further into the seats. He threw the keys to Ethan, barely having time to see if they were caught before he was tugged into the car.
You pressed yourself close to him as Ethan started the car, glancing at you warily in the mirror as Grayson tried to secure both of your seatbelts. Reclining back when he was satisfied, Grayson wrapped his arm around your waist, gently guiding you to relax into him.
“I lied,” you whispered conspiratorially, holding up your hand so that Grayson could see your crossed fingers.
“Hey! I can hear you!” Ethan called as Grayson laughed, pulling you in for a chaste kiss. You leaned in again, pressing your lips to his more firmly until Ethan yelled, throwing a wad full of tissues at the two of you. “I will pull over and make Grayson drive.”
You stole a final kiss before flashing Ethan your middle finger. “You suck.”
Huffing, you scooted your bottom away from Grayson until you could comfortably place your head in his lap. Your hand reached blindly for his and you let out a satisfied hum when your fingers wrapped around his. His free hand found its way into your hair, his finger pads gently massaging your scalp.
Grayson glanced down as you shifted, tugging both of yours’ intertwined hands closer to your chest. He watched you, eyes filled with pure adoration as a soft snore left your mouth.
Smiling softly, his thumb stroked the empty space on the back of your left ring finger gently.
“I’m gonna marry her.”
Ethan’s eyes flickered to meet Grayson’s in the rear view mirror but he didn’t bother doubting his brother this time.