[ description]
⤷ In which Emma write love letters to her future lover. Then she would send them to who knows where. She doesn't know who or if someone is receiving them. She just hopes that whoever reads them gets something out of it, like h...
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SOME TYPE OF LOVE :: xviii, friends?
October 17
Dylan had invited Isabelle over to talk about why she bailed on Starbucks the last minute. He wasn't mad, he just wanted an explanation. So she was in her car on the way to his house. She was doing a lot better. Sure, she was a little upset about the Emma thing but she understood.
She knocked on his door and waited for him to answer. Once he did, there was a huge smile on his face and her's. He stepped a side, letting her in. He then guided her to the living room where he sat across from her, then pouring a glass of wine. He already had everything set up.
"So.." He sighed, "Why'd you bail?"
"I thought I figured out what I wanted ... and I have ... now. Also, I was scared." She admitted, holding the glass so tight in her hand that it could possibly bust.
"Scared?" He questioned. He was confused as of to why she would be unless he maybe did something wrong.
"Yeah. You are a big part of my life and I just didn't want to get hurt again." She stared into her glass before bringing it up to her lips to take a quick sip.
He nodded his head understandingly, "I get it. I hurt you."
It was silent for a second before she blurt it out, "Friends?"
A small smile crept onto Dylan's face, "Yeah." He breathed out. "How about a game of checkers?"
So Dylan got up and went to go get that game. Isabelle was relieved of how well that conversation went. She thought she was in a good place finally. And so for the rest of the night, she and Dylan played a game or two, watched tv — just enjoyed each other's company. You know . . . as friends.
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