![]() And then…” Your words trail, eyes lowering as a wave of fresh tears surface. “We got into a fight,” you shrug, stabbing your spoon into the ice-cream when you feel anger, rather than sadness, flood your body in hot angry waves. “I don’t even remember what it was initially about, but there was a lot of screaming, mainly from him, and crying, mainly from me. You knew how close Dustin was to Steve and how much he looked up to your boyfriend, so to hear that the reason of your distress and tears was Steve was an obvious bout of disappointment for Dustin. “What’d he do?” The answer to Dustin’s question is plain-as-day there, you wrapping your arms around the answer, with your lips pressed against the answer’s cheek, the brightest smile plastered on your lips. “So… what happened? Who do I need to beat up?”ĭustin attempt at a joke and while you enjoy it, no laughter leaves your lips as your head turns, glancing at the framed photo on your night-table. Dustin follows behind you, a little slow because by the time he’s actually sat down, you’re already digging into the ice-cream, plopping a hefty spoonful into your mouth and relishing in the comfort food. But you were feeling and looking dramatic, what, with blood-shot eyes, tears running down your cheeks and of course, the ever-so-often sniffle that you couldn’t help. You take the ice-cream and spoon from his hands, moving over to your bed which you take a seat on quite dramatically. When you open it, Dustin is, of course, on the other side, with a soft smile on his lips, strawberry ice-cream in one hand and a spoon in the other. “Ready to talk?” ![]() With that in mind, you force yourself to get up, all but sulking over to your door. At least not when he knew something was really wrong and you weren’t just crying because of something silly. He may be your younger brother by quite a few years, but he was a good listener and an even better cheerer-upper.Īnd, he wouldn’t judge you if you cried. Then again, you knew Dustin wouldn’t judge you. You knew Dustin wasn’t going to stop until you let him in and told him what was wrong, but a part of you really did just want to be left alone so you could cry in peace and without judgement. Throwing your pillow to the side, you halt, staring at your door. Once again there’s a pause, and then another knock. “Y/N, please,” Dustin begs, his voice soft and attempting at reassuring but sorely failing. “I just want to help.” ![]() ![]() They continue to stream down your cheek regardless. “This times different, okay?” Rolling your eyes at his attempt at a guilt-trip, you hug your pillow closer against yourself. “Well not this time,” you mumble, now setting your head upon the pillow and blinking at your tears. There’s a pause before Dustin mumbles from the other side of the door “but… we always tell each other everything, Y/N.” “ Dustin, go away.” Your voice pitches slightly because of your tears, a crack you’re sure does not go unnoticed by Dustin as you sniffle loudly. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” You huff at the continuous rapping against your bedroom door, wiping angrily at your tears before parting your lips. Originally posted by thosekidswhohuntmonsters In the end you make up with Dustin’s help Can I request an imagine where you’re Dustin’s sister and your with Steve and you guys have a fight and you cry to Dustin about it and he gets mad at Steve.
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