You, A Friend Of Mine

Awake

"Dylan," I mumbled, my voice still quite scratchy.

"Yeah, love?" He asked, pushing me towards his car in the hospital wheel chair.

"It wasn't your fault," I say, looking up at him even though he's behind me. He falters in his step for a brief moment before becoming stoic.

"Let me help you in," he said, opening the car door and helping me out of the chair.

"Thank you," I said softly.

"I almost lost you," he said plainly as he sits me down in the passenger seat. "I was the one who sent you out of that house in tears, not the other way around." He closes the door and hands the chair off to a nurse that followed us out. Moments later he steps into the car, and buckles his seat belt.

"It wasn't all you, you can't blame yourself. I'm here now aren't I?" I placed my hand on his thigh.

"Yeah," he sighs, running his hands through his hair, then places one on top of mine.

"I love you, I'm not going anywhere." I smiled softly.

He turned to look at me and his eyes were a brighter green than they were yesterday, and the same could be said for yesterday and the day before. "I love you too." He smiled back and put the car in drive. I took my hand off his leg and instantly he laced his fingers in mine.

After being awake for almost three weeks with nonstop monitoring I was finally released to go home, and it felt great. The cool wind brushed against my skin when I rolled the window down as we drove down the road to his house.

"How are you feeling?" He asked for the first time in a few days.

"Pretty good, but I'm still kind of tired," I explain.

He chuckles. "Only you could sleep for a week and still be tired." I swatted him lightly in the bicep with my free arm.

We sat in comfortable silence, his hand in mine, until we reached his house. "Macy wanted to meet us but I told her tomorrow," Dylan says. "I need you all to myself for one night." He winks at me.

"You're cute if you think you're gonna get anything from me," I laugh, being helped out of the car, and lean up against Dylan to use him as support.

"I must be pretty hot then, huh?" He jokes, wrapping an arm around my waist. He is pretty hot.

I shake my head, walking stiffly as he leads me into his house and onto the couch in the living room. "Are you thirsty?" He asks, and I nod. He steps out but comes back in moments later carrying bottles of water and a bag of chips. "Here you are, m'lady," he says. He hands me the chips and my water, and he sits down.

"Thank you," I say and swing my feet up so my legs are in his lap. "What're we gonna watch?" I asked as he picked up the remote.

"Porn," he says seriously, not breaking his glance from the screen as he scrolls through titles.

"Dylan!" I scold, and he chuckles.

"I'm just kidding, bright eyes." He looks at me and sees the slight bruise above my right eyebrow, and the gauze from the cut on my arm before making his way to my eyes. He reaches his free hand up and places it on my cheek, pulling my face towards his. We look into each others eyes for a moment before our lips meet. I move my hand to the base of his neck and it's just as electrifying as it was the day we first encountered one another. He pulls away hesitantly, and whispers into my ear. "I love you." He rests his head on my lap.