Watch Where You're Going! | Dylan O'Brien fanfiction

17. (Paige)

Once I get home I immediately get changed into a huge hoodie and my pants go off.

I live alone so I don't have to worry about any un comfort.

Today was a very interesting day, embarrassing and interesting and I just need to sit down with some hot chocolate and relax.

...

I am awaken by a knock on the door.

I guess I must have fallen asleep.

I stand up quickly and peak around the corner to check the clock on our stove.

10:30.

Huh kind of late for company.

I walk over to the door and open it and I'm shock with an unpleasant surprise.

"Dylan o-oh my god are you okay", I say staring at his bruised face a few gashes on his cheek.

"I- I'm really sorry to surprise you, I-I just don't have anywhere to go and I just thought maybe", Dylan starts.

"What happened to you", I pull him in and sit him on the couch.

"There were these guys that I guess didn't like me", he shrugs most likely going over what had happened.

"Just stay there I'm going to get my first aid kit", I say pacing and then running to the bathroom.

"Okay I have rubbing alcohol, gauze, bandaids, a cloth, water and pain meds", I walk out of the bathroom dead serious.

"El really I'm fine you don't need to do this", he says wincing as I press a damp cloth to his cuts.

"Dylan just shut up and let me help you", I say disinfecting his gashes.

"Why are you helping me, El I'm no where nice to you", he sighs.

"Dylan no one deserves to get beat up no matter who they are", I say covering his now clean wounds with band-aids.

"Not even Donald Trump", he looks me in the eyes.

"Well maybe Donald could use a few punches", I laugh into his.

"El thank you so much for this I'll just go now I know you would rather not see me.", Dylan stands up from his place in the couch, pulling out his phone.

"Dylan just sit down and stop being so dramatic", I push him back onto the couch standing in front of him on my feet.

"The fact that your standing so dominantly in front of me with no pants on is going to get me hard real soon", Dylan smirks.

I roll my eyes and walk to my room to pull on some pyjama shorts.

"So Dyl pickle, what do you want to do now", I fall into the seat beside him and lay my feet in his lap.

"You didn't actually just call me Dyl pickle did you", he shakes his head at me.

"Maybe I did", I shrug, "whatcha going to do about it", I smirk.

Dylan pulls me into him quickly our chests touching our breathing in unison.

"Maybe this", he leans in and my head tilts.

Our lips nearly touch when my phone rings popping me back into reality.

"Cookies!", I shout jumping up and walking to the kitchen.

Dylan groans and follows behind me into the kitchen as well.

"I think we should make Christmas cookies", I smile pulling out the ingredients from the pantry.

"Do you now", Dylan laughs at my giddy state.

"Mhm", I mumble already pouring the wet ingredients into a bowl.

"Here mix these with the electric mixer", I push the bowl of dry ingredients over to Dylan.

He puts the muser into the bowl and starts it.

"Dylan don't put it too high!", I say but it's too late and I'm covered in powder.

"Dylan O'Brien you're lucky you have no middle name because it would be used", I yell grabbing an egg and running after him chasing him around the kitchen.

"El seriously you don't want to do this", I corner him.

"Trust me I really do" I say and crack to egg on him head and then take off in the other direction.

Dylan grabs my waist and picks me up setting me on the counter placing his body in between my legs, us laughing uncontrollably.

"It looks like we both are going to need a shower", Dylan laughs at our state.

"I agree", I laugh again and Dylan starts to rub my thigh, not sexually though like last time.

Just comforting

"El you really are so beautiful", he looks in my eyes.

"Well Dyl pickle", I smile, "Are you finally going to kiss me or what", I move close to him.

"You bet I am", he whispers and then closes the gap between us.

I never understood what people in movies meant when they got butterflies in their stomach but now I get it.

But mine doesn't feel like butterflies, it feels like fireworks.

I never wanted this to end because I felt a sense of relief, I felt so safe with his lips on mine and mine on his.

Our lips part but our foreheads stay together.

"Does the sweater speak the truth", Dylan starts the conversation.

"That it does", I reply.

"I think we should make use of it then", Dylan says kissing me one more time before walking out of the room and back into the living room.

Once I enter the living room Dylan is already laying on the couch.

"Well are we gonna cuddle or not", Dylan smiles at me and opens his arms wide.

I laugh and run over to him snuggling into his warm body and soon dose off into happy peaceful sleep.