timberlake tuesday

I Never Wanted

Originally posted by sensualkisses

Author’s Note: Here is imagine #1 for Tune Tuesday; a Happy Lowman imagine based on Drink You Away by Justin Timberlake as requested by wonderful Nonny. I hope that you enjoy it.


I Never Wanted

-XX-

Bittersweet thing, could this be a dream
Or just the same nightmare that keeps me awake?
Feel it in my brain, tall shot of pain
Pour a little out now for the love that we’ve made

I feel it the morning, you’re still here in the morning
I see you but you’re gone, telephone the doctor, I’m not okay
The bottom of the bottle to fill this empty heart up
A thousand proof don’t change the truth, I dive in, but I can’t
I can’t drink you away

I’ve tried Jack, I’ve tried Jim, I’ve tried all of their friends
But I can’t drink you away
All of these rocks, I can’t swim outta this skin, I’m livin’ in
Say, now tell me baby, don’t they make a medicine for heartbreak?
Tell me baby, now don’t they make a medicine for heartbreak?

-XX-

 

The only rival to the pounding in Happy’s head, is the pounding in his chest, which he’s trying to ignore as he systematically tosses back shot after shot. None of his brothers know what’s gotten into him, and since the last person to ask is still nursing a bloody nose; they’ve been wise to keep their distance.

He glowers at the prospect behind the bar when his hands shake as he pours another shot of Jack, so he pushes himself up and snags the bottle from his hands.

“Fuck off,” Happy growls watching with only a small twinge of satisfaction at how quickly the new guy retreats, and pushing to his feet he shuffles off to his room, kicking the door closed behind him, before dropping onto the foot of the bed. He takes a long drink, wondering how long it’s going to take to get the taste of her skin out of his system, and to his utter dismay he finds reprieve can’t be found at the bottom of a bottle of Jack.

::

You scrub the bathroom floor furiously; ignoring the gnawing nausea in your stomach, knowing for a fact that it’s your own damn fault for over indulging. You never drink more than a glass of wine with dinner, but the half empty bottle of Jim Beam sitting on the kitchen table serves as the perfect reminder of the pain you tried drinking away, which you failed miserably to do.

Rather than the pain being gone it’s doubled, so much so you wonder how you’re functioning. Pushing at your tumble of hair you sit back on your heels, listening as the phone rings and when the answering machine clicks on you know whose voice is going to be on the other end.

“Y/N,” Happy’s voice is a growl that sends a shiver up her spine. “Y/N I know you’re home. Answer the fucking phone. Answer or I’m coming over.”

You roll your eyes and because you have no intention of dealing with him today, and God help you any other day, you push to your feet and head for the door.

::

There are a million things racing through your head as you head for your studio. All of them having to do with Happy and how things ended up the way that they did. You push open the door and flipping the light on you see the mess from the night before. It’s a wreck, and that’s putting it lightly, but it wouldn’t be the first time you had to start all over again.

Pushing your glasses up your nose, and letting out a sigh, you set your bag on the counter, before bending to right an overturned stool, and when you do a flash from the night before dances through your head, and sinking to the floor you cry knowing nothing will ever be the same again.

-XX-

Got that poundin’ on my brain, so I drowned it away
When the sun comes up tomorrow, you can find me doin’ the same
Cause I just can’t forget, the way we turned out this bad
And now the only thing that sleeps here is a ghost of you instead

I feel it the morning, you’re still here in the morning
I see you but you’re gone, telephone the doctor, I’m not okay
The bottom of the bottle to fill this empty heart up
A thousand proof don’t change the truth, I dive in, but I can’t
I can’t drink you away
I’ve tried Jack, I’ve tried Jim, I’ve tried all of their friends
But I can’t drink you away
All of these rocks, I can’t swim outta this skin, I’m livin’ in
Say, now tell me baby, don’t they make a medicine for heartbreak?
Tell me baby, now don’t they make a medicine for heartbreak?

-XX-

He watches Y/N from his bike, taking in everything about her from the way she has her hair pulled up and away from her face, to the oversized flowing t-shirt and leggings. Her feet are covered in a beat up pair of converses, the same beat up pair of shoes she was wearing the first time he met her.

Part of him hates that he remembers that, that he’ll always remember that.

He straightens in his seat as she pushes open the door to her studio, a broom in hand, sending a twinge of guilt shooting through him as he knows it’s his mess that she’s cleaning up, and when she looks right at him he feels his heart beating a little quicker.

“Come on, say something,” he murmurs as she stares at him. “Anything…” he deflates when she quickly turns back around and closes the door behind her. And he knows he has no one else to blame but himself.

-XX-

Break it down
I can’t drink you
No I can’t drink you away, away
I can’t drink you
I can’t drink you away, away
I can’t drink you
I can’t drink you away, away
I can’t drink you
No I can’t drink you away

I can’t drink you away
I’ve tried Jack, I’ve tried Jim, I’ve tried all of their friends
But I can’t drink you away
All of these rocks, I can’t swim outta this skin, I’m livin’ in
Say, so tell me baby, don’t they make a medicine for heartbreak?
Tell me baby, oh yeah, now don’t they make a medicine for heartbreak?
Oh yeah, tell me baby, don’t they make a medicine for my heartbreak?
Tell me baby, now don’t they make a medicine for my heartbreak?

-XX-

Your head rests against the counter top, and despite its pounding your hand reaches for the bottle of bourbon, and lifting your head you take a drink.

“Stupid, stupid son of a bitch,” you mutter setting the bottle aside, and when you see him walking towards the door, you shake your head. It’s no use telling him not to come in, he won’t listen. He’s Happy, and he does whatever the fuck he wants to do.

If he wants to pursue you relentlessly, knock down the careful walls you built, he’s going to.

If he wants to turn your life completely upside down, he’s going to.

If he wants to wreck the photo studio it took you nine years to build up and really make something out of, oh he’s going to.

“Y/N,” Happy says when he steps inside and because you can’t bring yourself to say anything you just lift the bottle to your lips and take another long drink.

“What are you doing here Happy?” you ask finally bringing yourself to really look at him. He looks almost as awful as you feel and you won’t deny the sense of happiness you feel when you get some enjoyment from that fact.

“I wanted to check on you,” he says and you can’t help the laugh of disbelief that passes through your lips.

“Well you’ve checked. I’m in one piece; can’t say the same for my studio,” you say motioning to the wreckage.

“I’m…”

“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry,” you say interrupting him. “I never wanted to get wrapped up in you, and you fucking knew it. You knew it. I told you from the beginning that I am not like the women you are used to having around. I’m-I’m not a stripper, or a porn star…I’m just me. I’m a photographer who is more comfortable in jeans then I ever will be in a pair of high heels, or a G-string for that matter. I’m a simple girl Happy. A simple girl who spends Friday nights reading or watching cheesy sci-fi movies rather than going to some party or drinking until I can’t see straight, or having wild sex with strangers. My life was normal, and then you, you happen, and I told you. I fucking told you, and you pushed, and pushed, and pushed, and the minute, the minute I step outside of the box and go against what you expect or want, this is what I get. You destroyed my studio Happy. Destroyed it. Do you see this? I spent nine years making this, I poured sweat, blood, and tears into this place, and in a matter of minutes it’s all gone. Just gone. And for what? For what Happy!” Your chest heaves and when he says nothing you feel the anger bubbling to a point that you can’t handle, and before you can stop yourself you send the bourbon bottle flying through the air, aimed straight for his head, and luckily for him he has the time to duck out of the way.

::

He stares at her, the smell of bourbon filling the air thanks to the bottle that she threw which he barely managed to duck away from. She’s pissed. She has every right to be, but damn if his anger isn’t dangerously close to the surface.

“Are you going to say anything?” Y/N demands her hands on her hips as she stares at him through blurred eyes. He doesn’t realize that the command gets sent from his brain to his legs and before he knows what’s going on he’s closing the distance between them, his hands gripping her face as he presses his lips to hers, swallowing her gasp of surprise, and initially she pushes at his shoulder, but he doesn’t budge, he doesn’t stop, he just kisses her; getting drunk on the taste of her.

“Why did you do that?” she asks, voice shaking when he finally breaks the kiss.

“Because there isn’t enough liquor in this fucking world that can make me forget the way you taste,” he says, his hands running over his head. “Because I know you are nothing like any of the other women I’ve been with; and it just fucking is under my skin, and in my head, and I can’t get enough of you. Because I know I fucked up, but all I can think about is how much I want to kiss you again and how much I want to get you under me again…”

“Happy,” his name is a whisper on her lips and as he draws closer to her again, his hands reach for her, cupping her hips and pulling her close.

“You have every right to tell me to leave,” he says pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Yes,” she says and he feels the shock rip through him as he takes a step back. “I want you to leave, with me. Come home, with me.”

-XX-

I can’t drink you away
I’ve tried Jack, I’ve tried Jim, I’ve tried all of their friends
But I can’t drink you away
All of these rocks, I can’t swim outta this skin, I’m livin’ in

-XX-

You slip from bed, sliding Happy’s shirt over your head you curl into the chair by your window, staring at the view of Charming your little house on the hill affords you. You should have told him to leave. Somewhere deep down you know that, but looking over your shoulder and seeing him asleep in your bed, you know there isn’t anywhere else you’d rather him be. He’s a part of you know, and you’re just going to have learn to live with it.