Kissing Dylan

three: ghost

[unedited]

      My initial thought from our kiss was that this wasn't Ludwig, it was Dylan. The energy, the passion. Even his rhythm of breathing. It was all Dylan.

      But every sensation, every touch of his lips. It only brought back my memories of Ludwig and the summer that we spent. 

      I was afraid to open my eyes. I was afraid to see those familiar dark brown eyes. I was afraid to be disappointed in the fact that it was Dylan West, not Ludwig van Beethoven.

      Whether it was seconds or minutes that we kissed, I wasn't sure. All I knew was that I didn't want to let go of his lips, and Dylan didn't seem to, either.

      When we broke apart, he was the first to speak. His pupils were dilated, looking taken aback for a moment. "It's you."

      "You're Ludwig," I said, lost in my own terrain of thoughts, "but you're also not Ludwig. You're also Dylan."

      "I know you, you're Kiara. We were together that summer. We spent a lot of our days together," he was saying, but his mind appeared to be somewhere else like I was. His tone didn't sound like the closed off person Dylan West usually was. 

      "Why are you remembering all this?" I said. "Could it be . . ."

      His eyes dimmed. "Shit, I'm getting a headache." 

      And just like that, Dylan West was back. 

      "You okay?" 

      With one hand holding onto his head, he took a long sip out of what was left of his McCafe coffee. "I'm not sure why, but there was something phenomenal about that kiss. And it wasn't because of how bad a kisser you were."

      I shot him a glare, but he didn't let me protest as he continued on.

      "You made me remember things. Things that I've done, but those things I haven't exactly done myself."

      "I think I know what you mean."

      He was the one glaring at me now. "Of course you'd know.  You're the only one that knows everything."

      And Ludwig, I wanted to add, but didn't say it. "I had this feeling all this time while in school that maybe there was a little bit of Ludwig that still remained within you," I said. In fact, I had hoped so. "So I wanted to find you and see for myself."

      "Well," he said, eyes still narrowed, "it looks like he is."

      I didn't know what to say. Was I supposed to be happy that a part of Ludwig was still there? Or upset that Ludwig hadn't completely made it back to the past? But what did that even mean?

      "Get rid of him."

      "Huh?"

      "Get rid of the ghost that's inside me," he said, still looking like he was in pain from the headache.  It was as if this was all my fault.

      And maybe it was. Maybe if I hadn't kissed Dylan, Ludwig wouldn't have arisen from within him. It just didn't make sense. 

     "Give me time to figure it out," I said, "but now you have to tell me what you remember from the summer."

      His answer was easy. Simple. Prompt. "No."

      "You've got to remember something! At least the reason why you ended up in C&D Rentals that day you were passed out?"