I woke and did my best not to move, not wanting to shatter this moment that was now the foundation of my future dreams. I was lying on my back looking at the gorgeous boy lying next to me still asleep. Dylan was lying on his stomach, his leg wrapped around mine and his arm flung over my chest. He was facing me, lips partly open with his wavy hair sprawled across his face.
It was moments like this, just the two of us together, when I felt weightless; there was no expectations, no judgment to be made. Just myself and Dylan, accompanied by the warm feeling spreading through my chest.
To say I was scared is definitely an understatement. Maybe scared isn't the right word though, more like anxious. Taking things slow, just spending time together and enjoying each other's company is entirely new to me. Before, my relationships with girls usually started with a one night stand that developed into a dinner and a movie the next day. Really getting to know someone before hand was never a concern to begin with, that came later on, if it even came at all.
The anxiety was probably due to that realisation; I was getting to know Dylan. I know about his love for music, his need to be creative. I've met his family and seen how he interacts with them, how a smile breaks out over his face every time Sophie just enters the room. I've seen the side others see, and I'm getting to know the side that is personal, the one that really matters.
I slowly leaned over Dylan to check the time on my phone. It was only eight o'clock. I lay back down and took the time to study Dylan. I never thought I'd ever think a guy was beautiful, but Dylan is. This close to him I can see that his pale skin has a light dusting of freckles across his nose, and a small scar on his left eyebrow.
I don't know how long I lie there looking at him, but I did begin to feel like a creep. I stare at the ceiling and slowly begin running my fingers lightly up and down his arm which is draped across me. His muscle tense under his skin and his grip tightens on me.
"Hey," he mumbles, still half asleep. I turn towards him and see him giving me the sleepy version of his lazy grin, his eyes half closed. I have to resist the urge to sigh.
That teenage girl is resurfacing, Alec.
"Hey," I reply quietly. He removes his arm from across my chest, slowly, running his hand across it before rubbing his eyes. I reach out and push back his hair again, and as I'm removing my hand he catches it and entwines his fingers with mine. I smile at him.
"Have a good sleep?" I ask. What a lame question, Alec.
"The best," he replies before letting go of my hand and heading into the bathroom. A few minutes later he comes back and pulls on a loose t shirt and drawstring shorts. He turns and faces me.
"Coming to get some breakfast?"
"Sure," I say and get up, throwing on some grey jogging bottoms and a t shirt, the whole time feeling Dylan watching me. He holds the bedroom door open for me and then follows me into the kitchen.
It is half past nin and surprisingly Sally and Mitch are the only ones up. Mitch is lying on the sofa with his arm draped over his face and Sally is in the kitchen. Dylan gave my shoulder a squeeze before running into the living room and jumping on Mitch.
I turn towards the kitchen and see Sally watching me. She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively and I shake my head and laugh.
"Poptart?" she asks. Who can refuse Poptarts? She pops two in lots in and stands next to me with our backs against the counter watching Mitch try to manoeuvre Dylan so he isn't sitting on top of him.
"Good night?"
"Great night," I reply, not taking my eyes off Dylan.
"Not over thinking things?"
YOU ARE READING
Detention Boys
Teen Fiction"Alec, you're drunk and confused. You don't want this," he said, but didn't try to move away. I could feel his breath on my lips, only a few inches separating our bodies. I looked up at him, the dim lighting making his eyes the deepest midnight blue...
