✓ ❘ 𝐄𝐌𝐎 𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 ─ 𝐌𝐂𝐑. 𝐏!𝐀𝐓𝐃. 𝐅𝐎𝐁. 𝐓Ø𝐏.

Oh, Those Summer Nights. (Part 3) (Brendon Urie x Reader)

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Note: If you guys were wondering why I've just been posting Brendon, Dallon, and Ryan fics, it's because I'm trying to wrap up the series that are currently running in this book: Oh, Those Summer Nights, Hey, and Cape Town. As soon as Hey and Oh, Those Summer Nights are done (Cape Town will be running for a while) I'll get back to writing for the other bands. (And hopefully catering to the needs of some Joe girls ;). )

Also, how the hell have we reached 50k already?! That's insane! Thank you all so much. xx

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Brendon had been in countless situations that made him feel incredibly anxious before. Hell, he felt anxious every night right before going onstage. But nothing had ever, ever, made his heart palpitate and cause his breath to get caught in his throat as enormously as when he stepped through the door to join you on the porch.

You were standing right in front of him; all he had to do was reach out his hand and he would be touching you. But he couldn't. He wanted to – so badly – but he couldn't will himself to elevate his limb and break the barrier between you two. The imminent threat of your rejection worked like a poison; it paralysed him. He couldn't move, he couldn't speak... and he didn't try to. He simply stood there, waiting. Waiting for what? Fuck, if he knew. He had no idea what he was doing, but he knew that he needed to do something.

Sensing someone else's presence, you raked your fingers through your hair and heaved a heavy, tired sigh.

"Josh, I'm not going back in while he's still there," you said flatly.

"Well, he's not in there," Brendon responded, causing you to whip around to face him, "he's out here."

Noticeably taken aback since you weren't expecting Brendon to follow you out, you widened your eyes infinitesimally and leaned back a bit. Once you got over the initial shock of seeing him, you frowned.

"Great. That means that I can go back inside now," you gave him a sarcastic smile as you pushed past him towards the door. You didn't make it inside, since Brendon ceased your arm and pulled you back to where you were standing before. "What the hell, Brendon?! Let me go!"

"Not before we talk," he insisted, not letting go of your arm.

"There's nothing for us to talk about," you sneered, trying to wiggle your way out of Brendon's iron grip.

"There's everything for us to talk about."

You stopped struggling and looked up at him. His eyes were warm, coaxing you to stay and talk. You could never say no to those eyes – even now, when you hated him; you couldn't bring yourself to just walk away. You didn't have the willpower. But you did have anger, and Brendon was about to find out just how much.

Fuelled by your rage, you managed to release yourself from Brendon's grip while simultaneously summoning the hardest glare you could muster and directing it at him.

"You mean like you walking out on me? Leaving me when you said you would never?" you hissed, placing an open palm on his chest and harshly shoving him backwards; he stumbled somewhat.

He inhaled deeply, casting his gaze downwards before focusing it on you. "I had my reasons, (Y/N)," he said softly.

You scoffed. "Bullshit."

Now it was his turn to frown. "Do you really think I would've just cut you off for no reason?"

"Yes," you nodded, folding your arms over your chest, "Because that's exactly what you did."