When We Met

eleven

|Donovan|

Dylan Martin takes me home.

How do I know it?

Well, the first thing that I notice is a smooth arm hooked around my waist. The second thing is a warm hand wrapped around the palm of my left hand. The third thing is the familiar scent of a certain someone. And the fourth thing is the rush of my hormones.

I don't know if I'm tipsy with too much alcohol in my system, or easily dead to the world. All I know is that someone is trying to get me to my safe haven, and most probably that someone is Dylan Martin.

I feel my body limp over a rock and a groan escapes from my stupid mouth.

"You can never be of any help, right?" A voice echoes through the empty tunnels of my auditory canal and I immediately recognize it as Dylan's.

A sickly love smitten smile makes a vivid appearance on my face. I hope it's dark right now.

Within seconds, I'm scooped up in his arms and my head makes an intimate contact with his chest.

Even though I'm drunk for the worst, I feel my cheeks heating up with a prominent blush.

My arms flail around him, as if I'm a dead body and somehow, it doesn't bother him.

He unlocks his car and manages to open the door without loosening his grip on me.

Slowly, I'm lowered into a seat and I mentally applaud for the fact that he didn't bang my head against the door.
He fits the seat belt across me and pushes my hair back.

His hands remain encased around my face for a very long time and my heart starts beating at an extremely fast pace.

I can feel his breath on my face and I dare not open my eyes. If I do, I'm afraid I'll simply push my head forward and kiss him.

He slowly backs away, much to my disappointment, and shuts the door.

I open my eyes a little and watch his silhouette sway across the car. Soon, the door to the driver's seat opens and I shut my eyes close.

Jesus.

I don't know if it was me who spoke, but I hear a sound escape from my voice box.

"Black suits you."

Yep, that was me.

Dylan looks at me before turning on the ignition. My eyes are fully open now and his are gaping holes into my vision.

"It does?" He asks, driving off the lonely street.

"Yes. You look like Batman."

What?!

I catch his attempt to stop himself from laughing. Those lips turn themselves into a straight line, coiled at the end, earning him a really hilarious look.

Don't blame me, but I start laughing like an escaped lunatic.

I lurch forward and slam my hand against the dash board, laughing like my whole life depends on it.

Dylan looks at me amusedly, as if I've lost my sanity to a madhouse.

"Are you alright? Because I am scared of you right now." He says, causing my eyes to split open with a stream of tears.

Dude? Why the fuck am I laughing like that?

"Your face! You looked like one of the dwarfs from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs!" I say, clutching at my stomach.