Parallels | Dylan O'Brien

24 - Goodbyes

           

Los Angeles
-Lydia Moon-

It's been a couple days and Dylan and I have been practically inseparable. Whenever he went to a shoot, an interview, or anything, I'd go with him. Whenever I had a meeting, cake tasting or location testing, Dylan came with me. Some things didn't quite fit in our planning, but we always made sure we at least had lunch or dinner together. Or both. We sound like a married couple almost. But there's a reason for it. A reason behind the constantly wanting to see each other, and that's the fact that Dylan has to go on location for a shoot for a whole week, and he might not even make it back before the 20th. Before I have to go back to my own universe. I hope he'll make it back in time, but the chances are slim.
"Hey, baby," Dylan sounds a little confused when he enters his flat and he sees I'm already there. He's given me his spare key just a few days ago so I didn't have to wait until he came back from work to get into his flat. I told him I would come over, so we could have dinner together, but then, during my meeting, I decided I would go and surprise him by making him food by the time he came home.
"Hey, Dyl," I greet back before opening the oven to get my lasagna out.
"Oh, you made dinner," he coos as I feel his arms snake around my waist and his lips press into my neck. I just hum in response, trying my best to not drop the freaking lasagna. Dylan lets go of me for a moment, so I can carefully place the hot dish onto the dining table, but once it's on there, he grabs me again and nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck. He's so needy today. I turn in his arms to face him and wrap my arms around his neck. His honey brown eyes stare into mine. I can tell something's off. Either he's tired or he knows he has to leave tonight and he's afraid he might not see me again. I mean, me-me. Not parallel-me. He'll see her soon enough.
"I can't believe you're leaving tonight," I say, just above a whisper as if I'm telling him a secret. My fingertips slowly twirl his brown locks around themselves, my eyes scanning his face.
"I really don't want to, Lydia," he says back as his thumbs caress the revealed skin on my hip. He looks genuinely sad. "Like really don't want to," his voice is a lot softer.
"I know, baby," my eyes dart down to his lips. I really want to kiss him. "Just call that day, okay? I really want to hear your voice before I have to leave, and we won't really have to say goodbye tonight." His lips part a little and he nods in response, clearly not finding the right words to say now. Instead, he presses his lips firmly to mine, as if it's the last time he'll do that. He deepens the kiss a little, but I stop him before it can get too heated.
"Dinner's getting cold," I whisper and peck his lips softly before turning around to the dining table -and my food. Dylan stays silent whilst I cut the lasagna and put portions on each of our plates. It's when I sit down, he finally follows.
"How was your day?" I ask him, and he finally starts talking like the passionate actor I know and have come to love. He talks about the shoots he's done and the funny things that had happened on set. He asks me about my meetings and everything else I've done at my internship. I love how we can be so casual around each other as if we've been together for years. Moments like these make me wish I could stay. But I guess I can't.
After dinner, we curl up on the couch together. My head lays on his chest and his arm lays protectively around me. We're watching a movie, but I can't remember which one. My mind is too preoccupied with thoughts. Thoughts about how he has to leave in less than an hour, about how I won't see him for a week, maybe even not. I might never see him again. In my universe, yes. But it's not the same. I do wonder how it would be to be back there after a month here.
"Baby," he starts softly, making me look up, "I need to go and get ready." A sigh leaves my body and I get up to follow him to his bedroom where he starts packing. There's no use in counteracting. He has to leave, and it would only make things worse. So, instead, I lay down on his bed and watch him intently as he packs his luggage.
"Do you think it's going to be different when the other Lydia gets back?" I want to know as I twirl my hair around my finger, looking at the tips for broken pieces.
"I honestly don't know," he sighs while continuing to grab clothes from his closet, "I hope it won't feel too weird. I'll be seeing your face, but I won't be able to kiss it."
"Why not?" I ask, still not looking up from my hair.
"Because that Lydia isn't dating me. We didn't kiss at a club just a week ago, we didn't go to a photography workshop and we surely did not tag along to one another's jobs," he explains. He has a point. I let go of my hair and look at him.
"What if you do kiss her?" he stops and looks at me for just a second until walking towards me and squatting down in front of me.
"Whatever happens between me and that Lydia, remember that in my mind, it would be you. It will feel like you and I will be thinking of you," I nod slowly and look into his eyes. They still look sad. I don't like seeing him sad. I want to see him happy again. I sit up on my knees on the bed, Dylan's eyes following me as I move. My hands find their way to his cheeks.
"I bet you it won't feel like this," I state and kiss him passionately. He jumps a little in surprise, but he soon melts into the kiss and he's even the first one of us to deepen it. He tilts his head a little and swipes his tongue across my lip. He gets up, leading me with him, and carefully pushes me back onto the bed until I'm on my back and he's on top of me. His hands roam my body tenderly, mine are in their rightful place: his hair. I feel tingles all through my body. From the tips of my toes, all the way to my head. I want him to stay. I want to stay. Forever in his arms, where I'm safe.