Once Again

Chapter 34

(Ali's P.O.V)

We've been driving for a while now so I'm not surprised that I finally start to familiarise myself with our surroundings. We're home.

Since Dylan last spoke, neither of us have made an attempt to break the lingering and somewhat tense silence. I can tell by Dylan's composure that he's barely even on planet earth right now, it's a wonder he's even been able to drive back safely without getting pulled over by the cops.

I occasionally take peeks over at him from the corner of my eye and every time I do, he has the same impassive expression masked on his handsome face.

From a retrospective point of view, he's kind of always been like this. Whenever he has something on his mind, he keeps himself to himself and completely closes off.

His thoughts, emotions, everything is just a blank slate. It's quite frustrating, if you ask me. Especially since my inquisitiveness is about as insatiable as nymphomaniac. I just hope he tells me what's going on.

After a few more minutes, Dylan is typing in a code into a security system until the big white gates grant him access to the gated community that he lives in. Mansions upon mansions are dotted along this pristine, expensive looking condominium.

He finally parks in front of his immodest home and the engine of his vehicle completely ceases. There are no other cars here so I presume, that just like my parents, his are also away.

Does he always get left alone?

Dylan surprises me when he opens my door and takes my hand, then leads me into his house. He doesn't release my hand as we step further into his home, even when we're inside his bedroom. The small gesture brings a hopeful feeling, maybe he isn't that mad at me.

He guides me to his bed and I sit meekly on the corner, the bed dips a little in response. Dylan doesn't sit, instead he stands in front of me and begins to pace unsteadily from side to side. I place both of my hands on my lap, twiddling my thumbs as he struggles to fight his inner battle.

I don't know why, but something tells me that this is just the calm before the storm.

"Dylan, are you ok?" I whisper, becoming increasingly tired of this unbearable, suffocating silence. He glances slowly up at me through his thick lashes, not giving anything away. He stops pacing though, so that's something, I guess.

He glances closely at me, his dark eyes hooded and shadowing any sort of emotion that he could give away. Damn it, why is he so good at suppressing his feelings?

When I can no longer take this emotionless façade he's so forcefully putting up, I scramble swiftly to my feet and step cautiously towards him. He eyes me speculatively before sighing and opening his mouth to speak.

"What was that scrunched up piece of paper in your car? Where did it come from?" Out of all the things I thought he would say, I have to admit, this wasn't anywhere near the top of my list.

Suddenly my mind reels back to when I left the diner after having stuffed myself with milkshakes and waffles and to the flyer that was left on my car. Honestly, it was a little uncanny and it left me a tad on edge, but I didn't think it was such a big deal. So why is Dylan making it out to be one?

"Someone probably left it there when I was inside the diner-- which by the way, I wouldn't have been at if you had been a tad more open with me." I sulk, recalling how he deserted me in the midst of our argument on that same day.

If he had just told me what was actually going on with his sister, I wouldn't have been mad at him for leaving. Therefore, I wouldn't have felt the need to seek solace from high-calorie-- nevertheless, delicious-- foods.