dark side. || r.s.l.

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part six
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      I woke up to the sight of Ross wearing black jeans and a black shirt. "Get up," he commanded. "We're going out."

I got up and hurried up -- maybe because he had killed someone before. Or maybe because going out felt like a fun thing to do. But probably because he had killed someone before.

I let Ross drive. He was a good driver. "So where are we going?" I asked.

"Somewhere. You look like you can use something to get your mind off of things," he answered. The fact he assumed I had things I needed to get my mind off angered me. What does he know? He's known me for less than a week and he acts like we've been besties for years. He was the one who needed to get his mind off of things. And his fingerprints and any other possible proof. He should stay hidden away instead of hiding in open sight.

"I do not," I muttered. I crossed my arms. "Wherever we're going, I'll make a new friend and ditch you as soon as I can so I won't have to deal with you for the rest of the night."

"So, what am I then, your taxi driver?" He asked with a smug grin.

"Yes."

"Ever seen those taxi driver porn videos-"

"Oh. My God." I groaned. "Not like that. Just shut up and drive." I heard him chuckle and rolled my eyes.

He parked the car in a free parking. "Where are we?" I asked. He handed me a piece of paper and got out of the car. I turned it around. It was a ticket to an improv comedy show. I looked up at Ross, who was looking at me through the car window. 'You coming or what?' he mouthed, and I got out. He locked the car and walked over to me.

"I wanted to thank you. For... everything. Im pretty sure anyone else would've kicked me out by now." He had put his hands in the pockets of his jeans, and he was looking down. "And the way we met... wasn't ideal. I wanna start over."

"Ross..." I sighed. He's been such an asshole, using me for my house and food and bathroom, killing someone but cuddling with me less than 48 hours later...

"No, I know. I've messed up. I'm... I'm not a killer, Dylan," he said. I looked up at his puppy eyes. He looked like he meant what he said. "I'm a revenge taker. And a h-"

"It's fine. We're going to be late," I cut him off, waving the ticket in front of his face. "Show's starting in 10 minutes."

ROSS'S POV

"Yes. Right. C'mon," I said, and I began to walk to the venue, which was only a five minute walk away. I stared at the concrete floor beneath me as I walked.

A hopeless romantic. God, am I glad she cut me off. I was about to call myself a hopeless romantic. She probably would've laughed at me and the night would've been ruined. But there's still a chance.

DYLAN'S POV

Once we sat down in our seats, which were all the way in the back of the theatre, an awkward silence filled the air. It gave me the opportunity to think about stuff, and I hate thinking about stuff because it always makes awkward silences more awkward. Like this time. I began to wonder why he had taken me here, and what exactly we are to each other. I began to realize he was probably just using me. I began to realize that the thought of him using me saddened me, almost as if I wanted to mean more to him than the girl who's couch I sleep on. And that annoyed me, because if he wasn't a criminal, I would've loved all these thoughts. But the fact that he is in fact a criminal makes me sick to my stomach.