Wonderlust

If He Is Even Half of a Walnut

We found ourselves a nice little roadside motel for the night. It was nice to take a long hot shower, it had been a while. When I popped back out wearing my nice freshly cleaned pajamas I felt like a king. Dylan was stretched out on the only bed, brandishing a bowl of popcorn and a tv remote.

"I already unfolded the couch mattress if you want the bed." He explained.

"Oh, thank you." I blinked. "Are you sure you don't want too... I don't know share?"

Dylan looked at me and seemed to consider it. "I mean I just thought you might like some space."

"Dylan." I said slowly. "We're dating. We've done this before. I think this is allowed. Plus, it's the best option for our backs after a long day of binding. This is for your health."

He smiled as I climbed in next to him. "Right. My health."

He casually wrapped an arm around my shoulders as he flipped through the limited options of hotel tv for something to watch. I rested my head on his chest gently, which he didn't mind.

"You know if you're looking for anything not Disney this might be the wrong section." I mused.

Dylan gasped. "I love Disney, you blasphemous fool."

I snorted, and an hour later my eyes were drifting closed while Dylan brought a hand up to his mouth in amazement as Elsa started the grow her big ice castle up from the ground, through dramatic song. My last thought was just how comfortable and perfect this was. I didn't think it could possibly go wrong.

For the first time in a while I had a dream about my father. It was in some sort of living room that was familiar but nowhere I had ever been before. He was sitting there in an armchair, and for some strange reason he looked like Richard from Friends, before he shaved his mustache. I don't know my mind decided to project this particular image to my father's voice but I dealt with it. He kept talking and I couldn't make out what he was saying, it sounded like English but no English I knew. I was trying to interrupt him, and let him know I was here, and I had been here the whole time, but for some reason he couldn't hear me. I had to start screaming and still he would straighten out his newspaper and keep chattering on. No matter how hard I tried to scream his muttering was always louder.

I woke up in a cold sweat, Dylan's hand was on my shoulder and he poked me gently.

"Att? You were talking in your sleep-"

I felt my insides shift dramatically as my mind fully woke up and pushed myself out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. Then I hunched over the toilet, with the lights stinging my eyes, and convulsed out a few dry retches. My head swam and I felt Dylan's hand on my back gently as my whole body shook. Finally, I managed to vomit something up, and this went on for a few minutes until my stomach was empty. The world swam before me and my eyes burned, I was crying. The whole time Dylan was there, whispering softly by my side and rubbing my back gently.

"I'm... sorry." I rasped out after it seemed to stop.

"It's okay." He assured. "You want a soda?"

I nodded gently, and he came back within seconds holding two cans of Sprite, probably from the little fridge in the kitchen. I wrapped my fingers around it gratefully, soaking in the condensation through my tired and shaky fingers. Dylan sat down next to me.

"You think you ate something shifty?" He asked.

I shrugged, and leaned gently against his shoulder, I could hear his heartbeat. "No... this has happened a few times before. I'm just really anxious. My Dad. I had a nightmare."

Dylan nodded slowly. "How often?"

"Eh. Once last year. Twice the year before that. Not very often but always before something big. I'm sorry I probably woke you up, didn't I?"

Dylan smiled in a soft weary way. "Nah. I mean I was sleeping but it's no big deal. I've made it on less sleep. I used to keep myself up all night all anxious too."

He laid one arm gently around my shoulder as I sipped from the can. My stomach felt a lot better now. Maybe we could even aim to head back to bed. A full night of rest would be nice. The tile of the bathroom felt nice against my legs, and it was quiet. Dylan t-shirt was soft against my cheeks and the queasy-ness was washing out thanks to carbonation.

"If it helps put anything into perspective." Dylan started. "Even if you're dad is a complete walnut, no wait not even a complete one, if he is even half of a walnut, it doesn't really matter."

"I don't know." I sighed. "I just... I really want this to work out okay."

"Then it will, and even then, you have me." He leaned against my forehead like a giant puppy. "I won't let anything happen to you."

I love him, I love him so much. "Really?"

"Oh yeah, of course. I'll personally meet anything that tries to hurt you behind a Taco Bell at any ungodly hour and beat the shizzle out of them." He promised.

I giggled despite myself. "Wow, romantic."

He laughed with me, which was honestly an angelic sound. "I'm glad you think so."

"Hmm, I'm tired but I usually don't sleep afterwards." I admitted.

"Here, I got something that might help, if you want." He offered. "Or we can probably just stay up all night and throw a mad party, dude."

I laughed, but it was interrupted by a yawn. "As amazing as that sounds, I'm really tired, I would love help."

"Okie dokie. You think you'll be okay?"

"Mm hm, there's nothing left in my stomach."

I followed him back to the bed. He reached onto the nightstand and his phone screen illuminated his face. He patted the space next to him, to which I obliged and he handed me an earbud. I heard the sound of rain falling steadily. It was nice.

"We can share if you want." he offered. "If you think it would help."

"Yeah." I nodded. "I'll give it a go."

I laid down facing him and closed my eyes. I took in the sound of the rain and felt myself relax. Dylan was here, I was okay now.

Tomorrow was going to be fine.