Blind To It || Dylan O'Brien Fanfiction

17

Chelsea

"You gonna walk me home?" Dylan asks me seductively with a wink.

"In this weather?" I motion up at the darkening sky. The humid air is already making my hair puff.

"I'll drive you home," he promises, "As long as you walk with me." Those puppy dog eyes.

It feels good to give in. It makes me feel giddy and light and happy. The pit in my chest that I didn't even know was empty is filled with light, warm air. I want to hug someone. I want to introduce myself to a stranger and talk to them every day. I want to race Dylan to his house and back.

It makes me smile to think of racing Dylan.

When we're passing my house, I quickly run up to my porch and lay down my bag. Then I scribble a note for Becky. Dylan is waiting for me, tapping his wrist, pretending that I took a long time.

I nudge him in the ribs. Then I whisper, "Race me."

And he stops. So I stop. And we lock eyes. He smiles and I smile back. Then we're both off like frightened birds.

The concrete pounds against my shoes. I feel like air, running right next to Dylan. My heart is thumping thumping thumping, my shoes are silent. My feet welcome the impact of the ground. My breaths come shorter and shorter as my boyfriend's house gets closer and closer.

Dylan pulls ahead at the end, but face plants in his yard. There's a thunk as flesh meets packed dirt. And he's still.

Dylan

"Dylan?" Chelsea's light voice is filled with concern. "You okay?"

I feel her lean down next to me, and I know I have to take my chance. I sit up suddenly and grip her waist. My lips meet hers as I kiss her.

Chelsea kisses me back. "Don't do that!" She scolds me between breaths. "You scared me."

Her lips are soft and gentle. Her hands are small and her body seems fragile. Her skin feels warm and smooth beneath my fingertips.

"You're perfect, you know?" I whisper to her, pulling back just far enough to look into her eyes. "I love you so much."

Chelsea

I feel my eyes go wide. I'm not sure how long I stare at him because the seconds slip through my hands like water.

"I think I love you too, I just don't have anything to compare it to," I say quietly.

This suddenly scares me. What if this bliss is just the beginning? Does it ever feel better than this? Is it possible for things to feel better than they do now? What do I have left to discover?

I would think about it, but my lips are kissing Dylan back again, and I'm not complaining.