Type 1

Chapter 29

Type 1

Sometimes the reason nothing good happens to you is because you are the good happening to others.

Dylan and I returned to his car after our little childish act on the streets, and this time he wanted to drive. I was sitting in the passenger seat, about to close my door, when Dylan stopped me. I cast a glance over at him.

"You have puke on your shirt," he said, glancing over at my shirt.

As I looked down at my shirt, I scrunched my nose and tilted my head down, feeling my double chin show. Seeing the vomit stain from earlier. I sighed in frustration and leaned against the seat.

I slowly turned my head and looked over at Dylan, who was smirking at me before abruptly pulling his shirt up, exposing his bare toned chest to me. My cheeks flushed and my eyes widened in surprise. I bounce up and look at him with wide eyes.

He holds his shirt in his hand, facing me, waiting for me to take it. " Do you want to trade shirts?" He asked, a grin on his lips, staring at me as he waits for my response.

My lips parted, but no words came out, only strange sounds. I'm at a loss for words as my gaze returns to his shirt and his eyes. He rolls his eyes before hurling his shirt at me, which lands on my face and falls into my lap.

"Take your shirt off and wear mine," he said as he slammed my door shut and turned around.

I keep staring at him or at his back while he waits for me to change. I smelled his cologne as soon as I looked down at his shirt. I grabbed his shirt and nervously moved my lips when I heard him tap on my window. I turned around to see that his back was still turned to me.

" And don't say, 'I don't want your cologne all over me,' bullshit." He said this, and I smiled.

Remembering the night he brought me my emergency purse and his hoodie, which I refused to wear because of his cologne.

I smiled broadly with my teeth showing before quickly removing my shirt and putting on his. I looked down and saw how big the shirt was on me. When I opened the door, he turned around and stared at me. I held my shirt up to him and handed it to him.

He frowns and looks down at the shirt I'm holding. "I'm not going to wear your vomit shirt," he said as he pushed my hand away.

He smirks and relaxes his brows as he looks at me. "You should start wearing my clothes more often, they suit you," he said, raising his brow and nodding.

I smiled at him and pushed a strand of hair behind my ear. "All right, but don't be jealous because I look better in your clothes than you do," I said, biting my bottom lip to keep from laughing.

He froze for a second, his gaze drifting away from mine as he considered something. "Nah nah, I take back what I said," he argued, shaking his head and waving his index finger at me.

I laughed and shook my head at him. "Nah, too late, but thanks for the compliment," I said as I gripped the door handle and pulled it shut.

He stands there, sighs heavily, and smiles at himself. He then walks around to the driver's seat and starts driving away.

I was leaning against the window shield, staring out into the darkness. The darkness has a captivating quality that is both beautiful and dangerous.

Do you prefer the light or the dark?

"I think I have a water bottle somewhere in my car if you want it," Dylan said, gesturing for me to look for it.

I shrugged and continued to stare out the window. "I don't want it." I responded by sighing softly and closing my eyes.

He said, "Hey, don't fall asleep," as if he didn't want me to sleep.