Parallels | Dylan O'Brien

31 -Vi veri universum vivus vici, Part 1

New York
-Lydia Moon-

I can't believe that five hours from now, I'll be somewhere completely different. Back in Los Angeles with Actor Dylan and all his actor friends, and my uncle. I've missed uncle Rich. I've missed his lame humor and his stupid pranks. I've missed his advice, and his hugs. I've even missed the internship. It's going to be good being back where I know everything and everyone, I'll just miss this. I look at Dylan, whose head is resting on my chest as we lie together on the couch, limbs tangled together and watching a movie. He's already fallen asleep, I can tell by how heavy his head started to feel a couple minutes ago and how slow his breathing is going. We just had dinner with his family, little do they know it would be the last time they'd see me. It kind of saddened me, thinking I wouldn't be able to see these lovely people on a daily basis. I like them, and I believe they like me too.
Five more hours. You can do a lot in five hours, but not with a sleepy Dylan. I'll give him until the movie's over before asking him to do something for our last hours together. I'll give myself that time to take in everything in my surroundings; the paintings on the wall, the picture frames of little Dylan and Julia on another, the constant smell of freshly baked cookies all around the house, the smell of him. He still smells of fresh mint and aftershave. It'll always be my favorite smell.
The sudden shiver of Dylan shakes me out of my thoughts. He sits up, completely in shock and looks at me, eyes wide and breathing heavily.
"What time is it? How long do we have left?" he questions frantically.
"Five hours, baby," I reply to him, a small smile tugging at my lips. He's so adorable when he's this frantic. It's almost as if my last seconds on earth are slowly ticking away and slipping between our fingertips. He lets out a breath he's been holding this whole time before laying down on my chest again and drawing little patterns on the opposite arm.
"I can't believe you're already leaving," he mumbles. I take a deep breath and let it out. Neither can I, I want to say, but I don't. It's not going to make anything easier. Nothing's going to make this easier.
"I know, but there's nothing we can do about it," my hand finds its way back to the back of his head where my fingers start fiddling around with his hair.
"Do you want to leave?" he then asks and sits up to look at me again. He looks worried, and kind of sad too. I wonder if I should tell him the truth or if that'll hurt him.
"A part of me wants to. Back home with my family and friends," I take a deep breath, "But a part of me wants to stay here too, with you." His eyes have lost their sparkle since this morning, probably out of stress or dread for today. "Do you want me to leave? See the other Lydia again?" I shoot the question back, but I'm terrified for the answer.
"Not really, no," his answer only satisfies half of me. The other half wanted him to say yes, maybe that'll make leaving either. "I don't want you to leave, ever," he whispers, his eyes darting over to my lips and I know exactly what his plan is. We both lean in and meet in the middle for a sweet and tender kiss. Possibly one of the last kisses I'll share with him. One of the reasons to enjoy it a little more than I usually do. More reason to deepen it and make it more passionate. And I do. I tilt my head a little and push him back carefully until he's on his back on the couch and I'm on top of him. I kiss every inch of him. His cheeks, making sure my lips have felt every single mole on them, his cute tip-tilted nose – which is my favorite by the way – and every single bit of skin on his neck. I make sure I mark everything as if I'm a dog marking its territory, but with kisses.
"I know something we can do the next few hours," he tells me and we both get up and make our way to his room. Everything feels so nice with him, even though it's the last time we're doing it. By 'it', I mean everything; the kisses, the glances and stares, the touching, the love bites and the sex. Everything's the last time we'll do it, but it feels like it's the first and we're just discovering each other's bodies, each other's minds. It feels so right with him and I'm unsure how I'm going to function without him. Without his touches, kisses... Without his lovely way with words and his humor. Without him. I don't think I'll be able to.