Dylan O'Brien Imagines

Other Shoe

Dylan comes in, quietly. Too quietly. Too suspiciously.

You can feel it. Something was going to happen.

Something bad. It was like each of you were walking on egg shells. You were just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Y/N can we talk?"

This was it. This was the other shoe.

"Yeah," you say sadly, knowing what was coming next.

"I want to break up. This just isn't working for me. I'm sorry." He says it so matter-of-factly, so simply, so final.

You knew this was going to happen. You've known it.

He's just been so cold and distant and harsh and cruel. He's been like that to you for...well too long. And you were sad.

You loved him. Passionately, violently, you loved him with your whole heart. But it wasn't enough. And you just had to except it. It wasn't fair.

"Okay," you whisper.

You don't want to cry, not in front of him. So you get up and walk out of the room. You didn't want to watch him leave so you stayed away, practically hiding, while he packed his things. You stayed away until you heard the door shut. That is when you went to the to watch him pull away.

And then you cried. And cried. And cried.

You had no idea how long you cried. You sobbed yourself to , curled up in a ball on your couch. But some God-awful noise woke you up.

Groggily, you realized it was your phone. You also realized the time.

Way too late, or was it too early, for you to be getting a phone call.

"Hello?" you .

And that was when your world came to a crushing halt.

It was the hospital, telling you that Dylan had been in a very serious accident and that you should get there as soon as possible.

"But why are you calling me?" you asked.

"You're his emergency contact," the on the other end said.

"I'm his...what? He...he what?"

"You are listed as his emergency contact."

Well shit, you thought. Instead you said, "Oh okay, I'll be there as soon as I can."

You raced to the hospital, rushing to figure out where he was until you finally found him. He didn't look good. He had blood smeared on his face, cuts all over his arms. Broken arm. IVs everywhere. It pained you to see him this way.

A found you and began to give you Dylan's diagnosis. All you heard from him was that Dylan was in critical condition, he lost a lot of blood, and they didn't know when he'd wake up.

Fucking fantastic.

You decided that you should call his family. You called his mom first. As amazing as she is, you couldn't bear to tell her that Dylan broke up with you only hours ago, he'd have to wake up and do that himself.

She cried and thanked you for staying with him. She didn't know if she'd be able to get there and she was happy to know that he'd be in good hands-your hands. So you promised to keep her updated on his condition.

"Dylan you better wake up soon because there is no way in hell that I'm telling your mother that you broke up with me."

Unsurprisingly, there was no response. And that's how it was for the next few days. You had to leave a few times so you could sleep in something more comfortable than a hospital chair and so that you could clean yourself up and eat.