Dylmas/Newtmas One-Shots

Dylmas - This Town

Okay, so I know that I said that I wasn't updating for a while and I really should be revising right now (because I have TWO exams tomorrow) or at least sleeping since it's like almost 22:20 now but I needed to write this. I was listening to the song and the idea came to me and I just, I had the inspiration. I haven't felt like me since I took a break from writing and I know this sounds so stupid but I feel so much better in so many unexplainable ways simply for writing.

Anyways, this is kind of short, so I hope you all still enjoy!

Based on: This Town by Niall Horan

3rd Person POV

The soft glimmer of early morning sunlight flickered over Dylan's tanned skin, dancing around his prominent features with such precision. A muffled groan slipped past the slither between the brunette's plump lips, caught up in an outtake of hot breath. Rolling over, one arm outreached, Dylan's eyes blinked open, closing momentarily as they adjusted to the bright sunlight.

Only a minute later, the young man cautiously lifted himself up (still dazed with sleep). He leant over to the other side of the large double bed, bending his head down as though to kiss the head of somebody. However, he froze when he realised that nobody was there. The bed was empty.

Blinking in shock, he sat back. After sitting silently for a while, Dylan shook his head clear before pulling himself out of the comforting warmth of his bed and back into reality.

Now fully dressed in some dark jeans and an old top, Dylan pocketed his phone and wallet before walking over to the front door of his small apartment. Shrugging on a woolly lined jacket and slipping on his brown leather shoes, one with a small hole by the toe, Dylan stepped out of his home. Walking down the main staircase of the sleeping apartment block, Dylan checked his messages on his phone.

Nothing.

He arrived at the front door and could see people walking by, shielding their weak and tired bodies from the unforgiving winds of late fall. Bracing himself, Dylan ripped open the door, stepping out into the strong gust.

Immediately he regretted it, the cold chilling him to the bone as he walked down the street. The concrete ground had become a blanket of reds, yellows and browns, crunching under his heavy steps. The quiet conversations of people walking by filled Dylan's head, along with the loud, sudden sounds of cars driving past.

It didn't take long for Dylan to end up in the city centre, surrounded by early shoppers: smiling old ladies walking with their friends, screaming kids running between people and their angry or oblivious mum's either ignoring them or trying their very best to control them.

As Dylan walked past a familiar café, he stopped. An empty table for two stood lonely by the wide window at the front. A bittersweet smile fell on the brunette's lips as he stared over at the table, fond memories flashing through his mind.

He remembered the very first day that he had met who he thought was the love of his life – Thomas. It was late on a Sunday night, and Dylan had just finished work for the day as he passed by this very café and spotted a young blonde sitting alone at a table by the window. Dylan didn't know what exactly he was thinking when he walked into the café and bought himself a coffee before walking over to the blonde's table and sitting himself down opposite him, but he was glad that he did. From that day on, the two had been inseparable, starting off as mates before their friendship blossomed into something much more precious, something much more fragile.

Suddenly, a flurry of blonde shot past Dylan's vision, and the heartbroken man whipped his head around to catch sight of the person. Was it really him? Could it be?