Dylan O'Brien Imagines.

Hoodie | Dylan O'Brien

Six months.

Six months since the last time I saw you.

Six months since the last time I talked to you.

My phone ringing had woken me from my pleasant nap. Picking my phone up, I saw that Tyler was calling me. I furrowed my eyebrows together, confused as to why he'd be calling me. I pressed the green button, holding the phone to my ear.

"Hello?" I answered, sitting up against my headboard, rubbing the tiredness out of my eyes. Goodness, I've been sleeping a lot lately. I sighed, leaning my head against the wooden board behind me.

"Hey, Y/N. It's Tyler," Posey reminded me and I chuckled, shaking my head at him.

"Yeah, Tyler, I know," I laughed quietly, getting out of the bed. I guess I should be productive. I waltz towards my closet, opening it before walking inside.

"Right, um, I was wondering how you were doing," He asked me and I sighed, not wanting to have this conversation again. I didn't say anything for a minute, thinking as I rummaged through the clothes, stopping at one piece of clothing that wasn't mine and forgot that I still had.

// I'm still rocking your hoodie and chewing on the strings //

I gulped, touching the soft fabric, noticing the chewed up strings, tears pooling in my eyes. Shaking my head, I turned around, walking out of my closet.

"I-I'm alright," I muttered, ignoring the feeling of my chest constricting.

"Then how come you don't sound fine?" Tyler asked and I let out a sigh, leaning my head against the wall, trying to blink away the tears.

"I, uh, I found his hoodie in my closet. I-I wore it for a while after he broke up with me. Just brings back memories..." I whispered into the phone, sliding down against the closet door.

"Do you want me to come get it?" He asked and I shook my head, not saying a word until I realized Tyler couldn't see me.

"N-No. It's okay. I'll be fine," I muttered. "I have to go," I murmured before hanging up, not giving him a chance to say goodbye. I stood up, making my way back into the closet, standing in front of Dylan's old hoodie, running my fingers on it softly, tears threatening to spill.

// It makes me think about you, so I wear it when I sleep //

I took it off the hanger, slipping my arms through the sleeves, nuzzling my face into the soft material. I walked back into my bedroom, climbing onto my bed, laying on my side with my eyes shut, thinking about everything Dylan and I went through when we were together. I sniffled, letting out a quiet sob, hugging myself as I cried myself to sleep. Why did he have to leave me? I thought we were happy together?

I woke up again around five in the evening, walking into the kitchen, still wearing his hoodie, not wanting to take it off. A few of my friends that I met through Dylan, Holland and Crystal, had been texting me, begging me to go out with them but I didn't want to go anywhere. I haven't actually left the house for pleasure in a few months. I would just sulk around my house, thinking about what I had done wrong. I've thought about texting him a few times but never gain enough courage to go through with the idea.

The two girls came over on their own, not wanting to see me this way anymore and walked in finding me on the couch, examining the hoodie I was wearing.

// I kept the broken zipper, and cigarette burns //

I sadly smiled at the broken zipper, remembering that I had accidentally broke it while we tried to zip both of us in it, wanting to get warm on a chilly winter night a couple years ago. I noticed some of the burns he had made with cigarettes he smoked. Although I hated people smoking, I didn't really mind him doing it. Dylan would always put cologne on after he smoked. Plus, he looked really attractive smoking.