SWEATER WEATHER | dylan sprayberry [✓]

75; the wanderer

The first thing Ellie noticed when she closed the hotel door behind her was the darkness that surrounded her. She didn't really know what time it is, but it was probably around nine. The sun was just setting, actually.

The next thing she noticed was the boy that was standing a few feet away from her, leant against the hotel wall. He was wearing a hoodie, but Ellie could recognize him even from where she stood. She didn't really know how to feel about the fact he, instead of waiting for her in the park as they agreed, decided to wait in front of the hotel. Also, she still wasn't sure what to say.

How do you tell someone you love them, actually? Is there any proper way? Because if there is, Ellie would totally like to know.

When he turned around, Ellie found herself smiling. She tucked her hands into the pockets on her jeans – she had gotten changed in the meantime – and looked away. She had her head wrapped around the thought of being in love with him, yet she couldn't really fathom it. She had never been in love, not until now. How does she even admit that to herself? It still didn't feel real.

"...said he would pick me up later, it's no problem. Ellie, are you listening to me?"

Ellie blinked; Dylan stood right in front of her, his eyebrows furrowed. From the slightly irritated and annoyed look on his face the blonde realized she'd drifted away in her thoughts – ironically, thoughts about the aforementioned boy.

"I'm sorry," the blonde said as smiled awkwardly, "I didn't really catch what you said."

Oh, isn't the awkwardness of the situation more tangible than your own skin? Ellie heard a voice inside her head say, but she ignored the thought – she couldn't let it get through her again, not after all this time she had been successfully ignoring it.

"...and you're not here again," the actor's voice finally came through her; Ellie was brought back to the moment. Dylan was biting on her lip, awkwardly looking at her. "What's wrong with you today?"

She thought about the possible answers, but she couldn't think of any that would completely give her an excuse. "Just lots of thoughts on my mind."

"That's okay," Dylan said, "but I wouldn't really like to be out with you and not to know whether you're actually here or not."

"I said I'm sorry, what do you want me to do?" the blonde retorted, harsher than she'd expected. She shook her head, looking away. Doing so caused her to notice the stares people nearby were giving them. "We better get going."

Dylan didn't say anything, but the two started walking towards the park in a really weird silence. Ellie was trying not to think about her stupid reaction, and was trying to find the right words. But have you ever tried that? It's a real pain in the ass.

As soon as they sat on 'their bench', Ellie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It was so hard for her, this entire minute. She had imagined this exact moment so many times with so many people, but she never thought she'd feel this nervous and this scared. It was a whole new level of anxiety.

She could hear Dylan breathing beside her, and she tried to concentrate on the soothing rhythm of that action, because her own breath was nothing but steady. How do people even do this? Do they say 'I love you' and that's it? For her, saying 'I love you' wouldn't be enough, ever. You can't leave just leave the statement with such a huge weight just hanging in the air, between two people.

But she was lost. And she needed to stop thinking about being lost. Or in love. With Dylan. Yeah, she should probably stop thinking. It never did her much good. But how do you even stop thinking?

For God's sake, Eleanor Oswald, stop acting like Felicity freaking Smoak and be strong like Oliver. And don't think about your ship, because who the hell knows if it's going to sail. And don't think about Tommy and Laurel. NO, DON'T THINK ABOUT TOMMY. Not Tommy. Oliver's an asshole, think about him. And Roy –

"Ellie! What the hell is wrong with you today?!" Dylan's voice brought her back – it was quite angry, actually.

"Nothing, I'm perfectly fine," Ellie replied, looking at him. She needed to stay here this time – why did she even wander away so many times in five minutes?

Dylan clenched his jaw, shaking his head. "You're not. And I want to know what's wrong, because there's really no point in this. You were completely fine one hour ago, so please tell me what's wrong."

"No point in this, huh?" she retorted, nodding her head. "If there's no point in this, in you and me, you're perfectly free to walk away because that's exactly what I am going to do."

The blonde stood up not wasting a moment and would have definitely walked away if Dylan hadn't grabbed her hand. "I didn't mean it like that, I'm just annoyed because you're not even here, and tomorrow – you leave." He gulped, looking at her.

"I said I'm sorry," she said, looking back at him. What was she even supposed to say?

"So could you please start actually being here, with me? Forget what's bothering you, at least for an hour," he pleaded with her, and she sat back on the bench, beside him.

Oh, how much did she love the adorable thing called self control!

"I can't push the thoughts away, Dylan. I don't want to," she admitted, shrugging and smiling. She'd always do that – always.

"For me."

And then, the aforementioned adorable thing snapped and there was nothing holding her words back. "You want me to tell you what's bothering me? Fine. It's you, bothering me. And I can't stop it. From the moment you told me you liked me, I can't get you out of my head. And that totally sucks. And I have thought about this so many times I'm going nuts just like Lydia in season two, believe me. You know what I realized? That I'm freaking in love with you, and I don't care. I don't care if we're five hundred thousand miles apart, I couldn't stand not taking this chance because I know I will regret it. So now, once and for all, Dylan, I'm in love with you."

Don't think.

But –

Ellie. Don't think. Just do it.

And so the blonde leaned forward, put her hands on Dylan's shoulders, and let their lips touch. 

[I AM SO CONFUSED WHY DO PEOPLE EVEN LIKE THIS. I'M NOT SEEKING ATTENTION OR WHATEVER NOW I'M JUST CONFUSED, WHAT IS HERE TO LIKE. IT'S CLICHE AND IT'S NOT REALLY WELL WRITTEN AND THEY'RE SO ADORABLE IT'S ANNOYING AND THERE'S BASICALLY NOTHING HAPPENING WHAT EVEN]

[okay, i apologize. this is just one of the worst books i've ever written, that's it, and i'm annoyed that people read this and not things i'm ACTUALLY proud of and don't cringe whenever i'm reading them.]