That One Night ↠ D. Sprayberry

21 | talk to me.

21 | TALK TO ME.

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Isabella laid on her couch, staring into space. Tears streamed down her face, making wet spots on the couch. Her apartment was filled with silence except for the occasional sniffles she would let out. Her cat, Nala, rested next to her, occasionally rubbing herself against Isabella. Her phone was on the table in front of her and would at times buzz, but she didn't bother looking at it. She wanted to be cut off from the rest of the world for a little while.

A small knock on the door got her out of her thoughts. She looked at the door, but didn't stand to get it. She was going to leave it alone but the knocking didn't stop. Hesitantly she rose from the couch and walked to the door. With one hand on her stomach and the other on the door knob, she slowly opened it. Dylan was found on the other side, and once he saw Isabella his facial expression dropped.

"Hey. Kara said you weren't answering your phone. We were supposed to meet up but you never showed." He said.

"I'm sorry. I completely forgot."

"You've been crying. Why? Are you okay? Did something happen?" He asked.

"I'm fine." She said, wiping her tears.

"No, you're not. Something's bothering you. Come on Isabella talk to me." He said.

"It's just some drama with a girl named Anna. I thought she was my friend, but that wasn't the case. We got into an argument and she said some pretty hurtful things." Isabella told.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I don't know Dylan-"

"Isabella, you can talk to me. We're involved in each other's lives now. You can talk to me about your troubles." He said.

Isabella sighed and opened the door wider for Dylan to enter. He slowly walked in making his way over to the couch. Isabella followed him, sitting down gently next to him.

"So whose Anna?" Dylan asked.

"She's my friend I've had since high school. When I first found out I was pregnant, I got angry at her and I stopped really talking to her. We haven't spoken since then until today."

"What kind of things did she say?"

"She uh, she said I was a slut that couldn't keep my legs close. That it's my fault I got pregnant because I was an idiot," Isabella told, "And then she said, that you were only helping because it makes you look good. That you don't really care."

"You know none of that is true."

"It still hurts Dylan," she said, "She was one of my good friends. To hear these things coming from her, it makes me question everything."

"Look. You are nothing like what she said. You're an amazing and strong person, okay? And me, I'm here for you and the baby. Not for the public, not for the fans. I'm here because I'm partially responsible. Me and you, we're in this together." He told.

"You've been so supportive of all this since the very beginning. Why?" She asked.

"Come here," he said, pulling her to rest against his chest, "This baby, is going to be the best thing that happened to us. I want my baby to grow up knowing they're loved."

"It's funny. I've only been carrying this baby for three months, and I already love it so much." She mumbled.

Dylan hummed in agreement, and placed the arm that wasn't wrapped around Isabella on her stomach. The two smiled at the moment they were sharing with their unborn child, simply forgetting about the outside world.

"What do you think it's gonna be?" He asked.

"A girl." Isabella simply answered.

"I'm going with boy." He smiled.

"No, I know it's a girl. Mother's intuition."

"Well, we'll see in seven months." He said.

"Oh god. Six more months." Isabella sighed.

"Yeah, it's the size of a plum now." Dylan smiled.

"You and your fruit."