Hold me [ Dylan Sprayberry Fanfic ]

Chapter 9

Bridget's POV
I awkwardly stared at the carpet, twirling my finger across the rim of the glass cup.
"You can stay--if you want." Olivia ended the silence, she really needed to learn how to read the mood. Dylan glanced at me, but I was to embarrassed to look in his direction. I'd so impulsively held onto him like that--I squeezed my eyes closed, and began massaging my temples. I'd never be able to live this down...
Dylan was watching me, I could tell.
"I'm going to go change..." I mumbled to no one in particularly, stumbling as I headed for the bathroom. I sat on the floor, and fiddled with the carpet. Its not that big of a deal, I told myself, I mean you kind of just indirectly snuggled with a trouble maker. No harm could come out of that, right?
I scoffed at my own idiocy, and pulled off my jean shorts. I walked across the bathroom floor, and reached for my pajamas shorts and pulled those on. A creak on the floorboards made me jump, along with thunder in the distance.

I quickly pulled my sweaty t-shirt over my head, and pulled the matching shirt over my head, glad to get out of the clingy clothes from earlier. I then heard multiple floorboards creaking, realizing it must be Olivia treading back and forth between my room and hers. I rolled my eyes, it was her fault partly...Dylan wouldn't have came over at 1 am if she hadn't called him. But I guess I couldn't blame her, she was worried about me. Maybe. I cringed at the person I saw in the mirror, I looked sick. My makeup was running everywhere and my hair looked like I decided to groom it with a monster truck. Fantastic. I pulled it into a bun, and shrugged back towards my room, reluctantly. I slung my clothes into the hamper and turned to my bed.

Dylan was sitting in a different position than he'd originally was, he was sitting on the edge of the bed staring at the floor like he'd seen a ghost; his face was red, instead of pale. Olivia laid on my bed, rummaging through my jewelery. He looked at me, his eyes widened considerably then he went back to roughly combing his hair forward over his face, his elbows propped up against his knees.
"Let's watch Sponge-Bob." Olivia proclaimed as she switched out earrings.
"Let's not--you're not even supposed to be awake right now." I reminded her, taking the remote from her hand and throwing it onto the mini-couch in the corner. Olivia pouted,
"Well, i'm not going to bed."
Dylan turned to her,
"What if I--read you a story before you went to sleep?" Olivia instantly yawned,
"I think i'm tired now." Dylan lead her down the hall towards her room, and I crawled into bed, listening to the storm. I could hear Dylan's soft voice, slowly luring Olivia to sleep in the background of all the thunder.

The dream kept flashing back into my head, the Breeze Voice, the dark forest--the pain...These dreams--nightmares, were getting to be a bit redundant. And I nearly never woke up screaming like that, and its beginning to be a recurrence. Maybe i'm crazy, I considered. No one but kids had nightmares every night--it was getting to the point I was afraid of going to sleep.

I hadn't noticed Dylan had returned until he sat down next to me, throwing his long legs over top the mattress. He crossed his feet at the ankles, and threw his hands back behind his head. "Wanna continue our game of Truth?" He asked, this time he was the one adverting eye-contact. I nodded, and crossed my legs. Dylan shifted towards me, but it looked like he was trying really hard to make sure we didn't touch.
"What scares you most?"
I thought for a second, turning my pillow over and over in my hands. "Frankly," I cleared my throat.
"I'm afraid of a lot of things--I guess, i'm afraid of...being left behind."
I looked up at him, our gaze meets and his eyes drop down to my tank top then quickly to my blankets.
"Why'd you come? When Olivia called..." Dylan's eyes flew to me, alarmed.
"Worried. Very worried."
"Oh." I said, not knowing what to say.
"If you could be reborn as any famous person in the world, who would it be?" He asked, his tone a soft whisper. "Beyonce." I finally said. Dylan laughed, leaning over the side of my bed and gasping for air.
"W-What's so funny?" I demanded, crossing my arms. Dylan's laugh eventually winded down,
"I wasn't expecting that--I was thinking you'd say someone like Selena Gomez...or Jennifer Lawrence. But Beyonce?" He was beginning to laugh again.
"Why?"
"She's not afraid of anything." I confided truthfully.