Earth (Complete)

Six

A/N:

Had some time. So, here you go :)

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I returned to the ceremony and Dylan left. He didn't say anything about when we'll see each other again so I kind of took that as a sign that he didn't actually want to see me again. With a life like mine, I don't blame him.

Jeremy didn't seem surprised when I returned to the table for lunch. Turns out, he didn't even notice I'd left. It was then that I began watching him –  closer than before and I realised, Dylan was right. I'd noticed him eyeing our very manly waiter when he came around and after he departed, Jeremy's eyes would travel low...

As if his face wasn't enough to gross me out.

The ceremony ended not too long after lunch, thankfully, and Jeremy gave me a kiss on my hand while Cody was trying to avoid a very big, slobbery, lip-lock from Ursula. I nearly died of laughter.

Returning home wasn't much of a happy thing either. Mum had, in fact, noticed my absence and made me go to bed without dinner. When will this end?

The next few days went by as slow as they always have. I hadn't seen Dylan since the ceremony so I brushed that off like it never happened. Though I couldn't get him off my mind. Those beautiful eyes entranced me. His vulgar language and rough and rugged look made me think about things... feel things... that I haven't thought of or felt before. I have met and known many guys in my life, all suitors of my mother's choice of course. And none of them, not one, was like Dylan. He was so... different. So dangerous. I suppose us not speaking to each other was a good thing. My parents wouldn't approve of any of it and neither would society. This was for the better – wasn't it?

Just as I got it into my head that nothing was going to happen between us, he made a very unexpected visit one Friday night just as everyone was about to go to bed.

"I want this light off by eleven, Jane." My mother warned outside my room. I silently mocked her from my bed but called out a very well-rehearsed, 'yes mum'. Cody was probably still up and I hadn't seen him all day. Dad had dragged him to work today so he could 'meet some important people and get his life sorted out'. We had a good laugh about it during dinner in his room this time and while stuffing our synthesized veggies in our faces, he told me how he made Cavil trip – twice – and made his oversized suit jacket catch fire. I had no idea how he did it seeing as I couldn't hear over my own laughter when he told me how the little callus was jumping up and down to put the fire out instead of simply taking the jacket off.

Dinner was nice, but as soon as mum heard the laughter, it was over. And her – being the joy kill that she is – locked me in my room straight after. I swear, someday Karma is going to hit that woman like a mother fu–

Tap. Tap. Tap.

A sound on my window disturbed my thought and brought me out of my little pleasant reverie. I frowned at my window like it was a foreign object. What could that be? We didn't have any animals around here. They'd all gone extinct shortly after D-Day. So it couldn't be one of those things that flapped around in the air banging on my window, could it? I waited a few more seconds, just in case, and then there it was again.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I hesitantly shifted on my bed to my window and tapped twice so the electronic blinds faded and right outside was someone I did not expect to see. Dylan sat on my tiny windowsill, one leg up on it with him, and the other one leaning on the ground. His arm closest to the window hung on his hunched up knee and he wore his signature smirk. I let out a little yelp and shot back, my hand flying to my mouth to cover the scream. With the single metal band now on his index finger, he tapped on glass thrice once again, just as he had before. When I didn't move, he turned to face the window fully, only this time, he pressed the side of his face flat on the glass and once he spotted me, his eyes flashed to the button on the wall next to my window – the button to open it up. With his face slapped flat against the window, he tapped on the glass with his fingernail, gesturing toward the button.