Amnesia | Dylan O'Brien

31

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(DYLAN's POV)

So recently me and Amy have been texting a lot. She's kind, pretty and intelligent but she's just not Cam. She's not my Cam.

I know Amy likes me and in any normal situation I would like her back. But obviously this isn't a normal situation and I can't tell her about what happened. Telling people would put so much stress on Cam.

"Ow." I say, flinching.

"Are you listening?" She asks.

"Sorta." I laugh.

"We're going to be late." She flicks me again as I turn away. "Who are you texting?" She laughs.

"Amy."

"Amy from lunch?" I nod. Amy sends a funny meme and I start to smile as I read it. I send her back a gif and lock my phone, putting it in the cup holder.

For the first time since Cam got in the car I turn to look at her. Her body is turned away from me and I can't see her face.

"Hey." I softly say, placing my hand on her shoulder. I feel her quietly shaking. I look down to see her hand gripped on the edge of the seat tightly. I reach for the hand closest to mine, unclenching it from the seat and her body moves slightly in my direction.

I can see her face now. Blank, with tears down her cheeks. Her lip starts quivering as she fully turns to me, probably unaware of where she is in the world.

I reach for her cheek and rub off some tears and I rest my hand there, putting my other hand gently behind her head.

"Follow my breathing." I say, doing some slow breathing exercises. She tries but doesn't follow correctly, her brain probably scrambling.

She stares into my eyes which only seems to make it worse. Her breathing quickens.

I do the only thing I can think of doing. Something I haven't done in a long time.

'I read once that holding your breath can stop a panic attack. So, when I kissed you, you held your breath.'

I crash my lips into hers, stopping her breath. This is the moment I truly realise what I've missed.

I miss waking up to her jolly morning self and teasing me for being a grumpy pants.

I miss how she fiddles with her fingers when she has something on her mind.

I miss her making up her own words to songs because she doesn't know the lyrics.

I miss how she remembers me.

I kiss her like it's the only thing keeping me on the ground. I feel her grip on my hand as she regains control.

My lips refuse to let go, knowing just how much I've waited for this.

(CAMILLA's POV)

My lips tasting something so familiar yet distant. Something that I know if I let go, I will want again.

Feeling the control come back to me, I free my loose hand and raise it up to his face, placing it behind his head and deepening the kiss. I kiss him again with more passion, with my tongue. He gladly accepts, mirroring the same passion as our tongues meet. I can tell he needs this.

He pulls away and sits back in his seat, almost as if he's stopping himself. The car is filled with the sound of us heavily breathing as I'm left speechless. I wasn't expecting that.

He leans his head back on his seat and takes a deep breath. "Are you ok?" He asks me, his eyes forward.

Am I ok? Who bloody knows after that. For a brief second I recognised him. I recognised the boy I fell in love with.

I nod. "Yes, thank you." I reply. Thank you? I ask myself as I feel my cheeks heat up. Thankfully his eyes are fixed on the road.

The next week was awkward to say the least. Dylan drove us to college that day and didn't say anything except a goodbye before heading to class. Did he regret it?

Dylan and I avoided each other. I didn't really know what to say after that. I felt like my cheeks heated up every time I saw him.

Awkward glances were shared during the classes we had together and at lunch I would sit on his table but next to his friends. We were both quieter than usual but would still engage in the conversation. I would see him sat next to Amy talking to her and I couldn't help but glance every time she laughed at something he said. Was he avoiding me because the kiss complicated things between him and Amy?

Part of me is being a coward by avoiding him. I know that. But the other part is telling me to suck it up and talk to him. I don't want to ruin our relationship, whether it be as friends or not. I've missed talking to him.

It's gotten harder to sleep again. Most nights I'm sat on my bed with my finger hovering over Dylan's number.

It has been a week since I've directly spoken to him. I'm sat on my bed on a Wednesday night. I take a deep breath before pressing the call button.

"Hi." I say, a little surprised that he picked up the phone.

"Hi."

"This is killing me."

"Me too." I hear the sadness in his voice.

"I don't want it get in between us." I say. "I mean I'm guessing you only did it to stop my panic attack?" I ask, the back of my mind wanting him to say no. I hear silence come from the other end of the phone. "Dylan?"

"Ye-yeah." He stutters and clears his throat. I have to admit, he doesn't sound very convincing when he says that.

"Now can we talk?"

"Sure."

"My sleep hasn't gotten any better without you." I quietly laugh to myself.

"Ditto." He says. I smile, knowing our calls help him as much as they do for me.

We stay up for an hour talking about the same nonsense that cause us both to laugh non-stop. I find myself falling asleep in the half a minute that Dylan leaves to go downstairs and grab some water.