IN DYLANS LIFETIME, NOTHING WAS LONGLASTING. A two bedroom house lasted ten years, her parents' marriage lasted two more. Her brother could be anywhere, under the fist of her father. She had hope that he thought the same thoughts she had regarding him. Wondering where she was, how she was doing.
After everything, Dylan knew it was sooner or later she fell through the cracks again, back to square one.
Square one was a dark place. Dylan's personal hell, full of loneliness, misunderstanding and a combination of other negative elements that made getting through each day a struggle. Dylan had always been too stubborn to wish too much for herself, knowing square one was always an inevitability, and she feared the day she took a measly step forward and crossed a line of no return.
She believed a Dylan who would do that to be naive. And surely she wasn't that, right?
Alas, glee club had changed her—a lot more than she would admit, but everyone saw it. Dylan smiled a grin so wide in the choir room that it had only been a couple of weeks since they all realised she had cheek dimples (which many had evidently gotten attached to, making it a habit to pinch her cheeks in a means to poke fun at her).
Alarmingly, Dylan had found a home in glee club, something that she—or anyone else who knew her fully—never deemed possible.
It was petrifying.
"Toile? I always pegged you as a chinoiserie type!" Kurt's elation was pathetic, or at least Dylan thought so. Biting her lip to keep any mean comments at bay (she really was trying with Kurt, trying hard), she watched a dumbfounded Finn stumble his way out of the choir room.
"Call me an idiot if I'm wrong—no really," she started, the playful smirk immediately tweaking Kurt the wrong way, so much so that he instantly turned to the door. She reached a hand out to stop him, snatching the 'moodboard' he had created from him with great agility. "But Hudson doesn't really seem like the home-making type."
"Spare me, Dylan," Kurt said with an eye roll.
Dylan immediately jumped to her own defence, ensuring Kurt that this wasn't another one of her gimmicks to wind him up. "Hey, I'm being a...what's the word? Friend. I'm being a good bud and telling you that this crush—mm-mm, never gonna happen, buddy. Zero chance. Zilch. Nada."
"How gently put," Kurt deadpanned, unimpressed.
Dylan rolled her eyes, sighing. "Look, I'm being real, dude. Finn Hudson is all woman-crazy. I mean, he had Quinn, who is, like, super-duper fine. And, I mean, Rachel's hot too if you get to her more likeable under layers. And Santana—evil bitch but phew!" Dylan rambled on, fidgeting with the fabrics attached to Kurt's masterpiece, until she noticed his silence and her impulsive words caught up to her.
She reddened. "What?"
"You're just so gay," Kurt stated, factually.
Dylan scoffed, half-heartedly. "Pfft, shut up, dude. I'm not the one who's pining after McKinley Royalty, all right?"
Kurt whistled, taking the moodboard back and spinning on his heels. "I beg to differ!"
Dylan threw her arms out. "Hey, I'm not saying I wouldn't jump at the chance if Quinn gave me the green light, but I'm not here making plans for a future house, am I? A stupid crush is way different than pining." The words spilled out once more, and though spoken as though she had the upper hand, Kurt's smirk and excited wide eyes seemed to suggest otherwise.
Dylan grew agitated at the sight of it. "God, what?"
"You finally admitted it," Kurt said with an air of superiority. "Crazy, Dylan Miller has feelings."
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𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲, q.fabray.
Fanfiction[𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐞] [𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞 - 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐱] Dylan Miller is a wild combination of many qualities, and most of them are not on the positive side. A selfish, inconsiderate, stoic outcast with a nasty tongue and rebellious flare, she only jo...
