(Romantic•Comedy)
COMPLETED
Dylan grew up in a well-to-do family. He was a young good-looking guy with a bright future thanks to his workaholic parents.
Money, branded stuff, huge house, sports cars, a super model girlfriend, name it. He had almost...
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While Dylan was on his bed, he let the deafening silence tormented him. He was aware that he let his anger get into his head again which caused him to lose control of himself. He knew it was foolishness, and he felt terribly bad about yourself because of it.
Every time he remembers what he had done to the person who did nothing but take care of him, he couldn't stop hating himself. The strong sense of being a man in him collapsed completely.
As he was drowning in the abyss of regrets, fear grew inside of him as well. Thinking of Rose leaving because of what he did to her troubled him depressingly.
"Damn it... I fucked up again." he muttered.
After almost two hours, Mrs. Walton came back to his room and joined him on the bed. She was calm, but she wouldn't let her son's unmindful actions slide.
He obediently stayed in his room leaning against the bed's headboard, quiet and ashamed.
"Why did you do that for?" she asked calmly.
He was facing down. He still couldn't bring his voice to talk.
"Did you lose your temper again? Why? Did she do something to you?" she questioned.
"No, mom. She didn't do anything to me." he answered in a low and heavy tone.
"Then, why did you hurt her? ...She cried on our way to the hospital. She got four stitches because of what you did to her." she told him disappointedly.
Imagining Rose crying because of him made him feel more troubled and ashamed. "Is she leaving?" he asked in a sad voice.
"I don't know. She didn't say anything about leaving." she answered.
"I'll talk to her." He was about to stand, but Mrs. Walton stopped him.
Her: "Let her rest for now."
He didn't insist. He leaned back against the headboard and sulked again.
Mrs. Walton observed him for a moment. "Do you... like her, Dylan?" she asked in an uncertain, but suspicious tone.
After he heard that, his expression changed.
Mrs. Walton noticed it. "All right. Take a rest. Let's talk about this again when you're ready." She got up and left the room.
That night, Dylan asked himself the same question over and over until he fell asleep.
