Right There || Dylan O'Brien

chapter twenty-one; morning after

When waking up the next morning, Dylan realized he was lying his bed but snuggled up with Clara on the couch. They had fallen asleep, had let the TV on and lights on. On top of that, it was freaking 8 AM and his neck hurt.

He yawned and rubbed his eyes before gazing at the girl. She was still fast asleep, eye makeup smeared and hair a mess. Even if she was looking this adorable in this position, he had to lift her up and bring her to her bed or her neck would end up hurting as much as his did.

After lying her down on his bed and pulling the sheets over her body, she opened up her eyes. He shushed her when she wanted to say something, "It's 8 AM, make sure you get some more sleep. It's too early-..."

"But Dylan?" he was about to walk away, so she grasped for his warm hand. It was a kind of useless. She couldn't even say anything or her eyes closed by itself and she left him standing there, not knowing what she wanted tell him nor what he was supposed to do now. Was she asleep, and if she was, was it worth waking her up to ask?

Deciding not to, Dylan sighed in frustration as he rubbed the back of his hurting neck. He was sure a hot shower would work and if it didn't, he always could use painkillers. He walked to the bathroom, where he turned on the shower and undressed himself.

When he stepped into the steaming water, he closed his eyes to help him relax more. But how was he going to relax with knowing the girl was sleeping in his bed? His freaking bed. It should've made him excited, he should've lied down next to her and let her sleep in his arms. She had feelings for him, he should've kissed her when she told. But he didn't, and you want to know why? Because he felt she wasn't ready, she was afraid and he was selfless.

He had to be less selfless and a little more selfish, he had to stop thinking about other people for once in a while. He was also important, he had to be happy too.

Dylan sighed, washing his hair with shampoo. He chose to stay for another few minutes, not only for his neck but also to kill the time. How long would it take for Clara to wake up? When he finally could hear her talk again, see her smile and feel her soft skin when he would touch her hand or caress her cheek. He liked being around her, he liked knowing she wasn't alone in the apartment because he missed Tyler. He missed his friend, even though he lived ten minutes away from him. He missed his sudden farts, he missed waking up by him yelling for attention, he missed the fun they had. But on the other hand, he had all the time to figure out how this freaking girl's mind was working.

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Clara woke up when it was 10 AM, rolling over to her stomach and  hugged her pillow, yawning and growing afterwards because she didn't want to stand up yet. She also refused to open her eyes, but that was until she heard Dylan's laugh.

Oh right, they fell asleep on the couch last night, he brought her to the bed in the morning and told her to go back to sleep. It was too early. But what did he do in the time when she had been sleeping in his bed? She hoped he hadn't sacrificed to lie on the couch. That'd be torture for his back, neck or his body in general. Ugh, his body. His amazing body. How could she ever be the one to meet him at Ikea? She was so lucky.

She yawned for the second time, throwing her legs over the side of the bed to attempt to rub away the makeup underneath her eyes. She also pulled the bobby pins out of her hair, running a hand through it before standing up, walking out of the bedroom.

He was watching TV on the couch, chuckling at stupid jokes from Comedy Central while eating a bowl of cereal.  It didn't last long or he turned off the TV and jumped up when he heard footsteps in the kitchen. He wanted to see how she was doing, to ask how she slept. Perhaps if his bed was comfortable enough, just to tease her.

"Hey" he sat down at the small dinner table, watching her grab an apple out of the refrigerator. Then she sat down across from him, sending him a smile. "How are you? I remember you wanted to say something but unfortunately fell asleep. I didn't know what was going on-..."

She also remembered, giggling softly at how weird it would've looked. "I was worried if my mom knew that I was with you. Then I realized that I texted her when Holland drove me here. I'm sorry for confusing you."

"No, it's totally fine," his cheeks hurt by how big he was smiling. He couldn't get over the fact that she told him she had feelings for him and slept over last night. Now they were talking, it wasn't awkward at all. He loved it. "The first night I slept in that bed, I also fell asleep instantly. It's like it's meant to be."

Clara opened her mouth to say something, but then shook her head. She gave him the silent treatment because everything she would say, he would come back with something smarter. It was hopeless.

"I guess I'll just shut up," he said it to get her to talk again, maybe smile but it didn't help. She kept quiet, staring at her with her blue eyes while she ate her apple. He put away his bowl, leaning his arms on the table to stare back at her. That was the last thing he could think of. "Okay, I see. We could do a staring contest. If you smile-..."

When he said the word smile, a big smile appeared on her face along with a blush. "I'm so done with you." Standing up quickly, she threw away the apple and walked out of the kitchen. It was the only way she could hide herself from blushing, only if he didn't run after her and grab her by her hips. It made her turn around, nervously giggling at what he told her.

"Well, I'm not done with you."