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o17. REAL LIFE 'do you want this?' ( CW: this chapter will contain explicit sexual content. )
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after making a quick pit-stop to get some fast food at a drive thru, dylan and isabelle had finally made it back to his place.
dylan had shown isabelle to the guest bedroom, although it wasn't the first time that she'd been to his house, it would be the first time she was staying there overnight. isabelle wouldn't dare to tell him how she actually didn't want to sleep in his guest room. she wanted to be in his bed. sleeping together. in more ways than one.
there was some sort of thickness that hung in the air, a tension. sexual tension. neither of them could ignore it, but it was the choice on whether to act on it or not. they were both too afraid, afraid of ruining the friendship they had. apart from the fact that they kissed in dylan's trailer the other day, but they had yet to talk about that moment too.
"hey, iz."
isabelle was pulled out of her thoughts by dylan's voice, turning around to see him standing in the bedroom's doorway. his arm was outstretched, holding what looked like some sort of shirt.
"i thought you might be a little uncomfortable sleeping in jeans. so uh... have this if you want it," dylan explained, and isabelle couldn't help the smile that curled onto her lips. she stepped towards him, taking the shirt from his hand. in the process, their fingertips very briefly brushed against each other, until izzy had stepped back.
"thanks," she spoke, and the pair lapsed into an awkward silence for a minute or so.
"uh i should- we should go to bed," dylan finally broke the silence, and the blonde nodded in agreement.
"yeah, we should.." she said, almost sure she noticed his brown eyes flickering down to her lips for a brief second, but maybe she was simply seeing things. "goodnight, dyl."
"yeah, night, izzy." he smiled, lingering in the doorway for a moment longer before grabbing the doorknob, pulling it shut as he left.
isabelle sighed and undressed herself down to her bra and underwear, pulling on dylan's t-shirt that he had given to her. it was oversized and baggy, reaching down to just above her mid-thigh. it smelled like him, the linger of his cologne still there. his jacket that he had given to her on the night they met was still at her house. the smell had faded now, it had been a few months since that day. she would have to remember to return it to him soon, although he hadn't asked her for it back.
