Addicted (Dylan O'Brien)

Chapter 8

I'm standing in the doorway, watching as Dylan sleeps peacefully in my bed... my bed! Why does he insist on doing this to me? I haven't spoken to him, or Logan since our encounter in the cafeteria the other day. I have been doing good keeping my mind focused on school and not him. Well, I could be doing better while I'm not in class but the point was, I was doing better.

Key word, was. Up until I found him sleeping in my bed. Why mine of all the places he could sleep, like his dorm or even Cher's bed. According to her, they're close and have shared the same bed so why mine. I mean sure we took a quick nap together but, that's besides the point.

Why was he even here in the first place? Chere obviously isn't here and me and him don't get along, so why my dorm of all places? My agitation emerges and I slam the door shut, startling him awake. Good.

"What the fuck?" he looks around with tired eyes.

No matter how aggravated I might be with him right now, with his messy hair and sleep filled eyes, he looks like a normal collage student. I have to remind myself of the jerk he really is. Even if I've had dreams about him almost every night this week.

"What do you think you're doing?" I toss my purse on my chair, crossing my arms.

Blinking a few times, he looks around the room before looking back up at me. "Where's Cher?" he ask, his voice groggy from his sleep.

"Obviously not here." I snap at him.

Dylan looks up at me, his eyebrows in a deep crease, "What is you're problem?"

My problem? He can't be serious.... can he?

"You don't see anything wrong with this picture?" I ask taking a step back and spreading my arms wide for him to get the picture.

Looking around he yawns shaking his head no, "I past out waiting for Cher, how is that a problem?"

"That's not the problem! The problem is that for some strange reason, you enjoy just lounging in my bed whenever you please!" I say loudly, finding it hard to control myself, which is becoming a pattern when dealing with Dylan.

A smug smirk forms on his lips as he looks back up at me, "You didn't seem to have a problem with it when you feel asleep with me." he says smugly.

Oh how I wish I could just smack that smirk right off his face. I should of known he wouldn't of let it go as easily as I was hoping. I've caught myself thinking about that more than I want to admit, so him bringing it up to me makes me only wonder if he too has been as hung up on it as I have.

"It's my bed, I'll sleep in it when I want to." I say firmly, masking the fact that he's making me nervous.

"And with who you want too." he chuckles at his own obscene joke.

"God! Is that all you think about?" I shout, reaching my limit with him.

If he wanted to get a reaction out of me, he got it. I could see the pride playing all over his face from how I reacted but I could care less. He thinks he can say whatever he wants without any sort of consequences. Well, he's about to take a hard lesson.