Weekends

27- Cyclones and Cinnamon- B

I couldn't do it. I felt like I couldn't breathe, but I knew that I had to so Dallon would calm down. "Brendon, hun, you can forget about everything that happened today at my house. I can't let you stay here." I can't remember another time that I'd heard Dallon's voice crack. He always kept up this front when he was comforting me or protecting me, and he'd never let me see this side of him. "I'm sorry," I told him. He let out a helpless whimper.

"God, B, you don't u-understand. You didn't do anything. I just- shit, Bren, I need you to get out of that house," he cried lightly. "I-I can g-get out of my-my window. Can y-y-you be there to um like catch m-me," I asked him, hating to ask him for so much. "Of course, let me get over there. I love you so much, Brendon," he told me before he ended the call.

I took a deep breath and went over to my window. I saw my boyfriend standing at the bottom of the jump, wiping his eyes before looking up at me. He held up three fingers, then two, then one. Then, I jumped.

Dallon caught me and immediately broke down. He took me in his arms and cried harder than I'd seen anyone cry before. I was crying too, but the sounds of his sobs were drowning my tears out. "Brendon, I will never not love you. I can't let you back in this house, I can't," he told me. I nodded my head and felt the pads of his thumbs wipe away my tears. "L-Love, I'm taking you back to my house, okay? I'll make sure my family doesn't bother us, okay? Everything will be alright. Just give me a moment to make it better," he spoke softly and walked me over to his passenger side door.

"Thank you," I whispered, and he kissed me on the top of my head. I found myself feeling so horrible on our way to Dallon's house. I couldn't even follow one simple task that my father gave. I had disappointed him. I truly was worthless. My life was such a mess that a pile of rubble left over by a tornado would be safer and have more organization in it than me.

"Brendon? Shit, Brendon, baby, hold on and let me pullover," Dallon placed his hand on my knee as I started gagging from all of my crying and struggling for air. He parked on the side of the road, flipped his hazards on, and ran around to my side of the car. "Brendon, I need you to calm down. It's dark and so so unsafe for us to be out here. I need you to breathe for me, baby." He was so flustered as he lifted me out of the car and onto the grass next to the road.

He knew that nature calmed me down but so did his room. I wanted nothing more that to be wrapped in the linens that smelled like him. I tried to breathe in but got cut off by a sob, making me gag again. I wound up throwing up a bit into the grass but none on me or Dallon. "Okay, honey. It's okay. We'll be at my house in just a few more minutes." I nodded and climbed back into the car.

Dallon was definitely going over the speed limit, and he kept looking over at me during the rest of our drive. I knew it wasn't safe and I wanted to say something to him, but I couldn't bring myself to speak. As soon as he parked, he ran inside to check where his parents and sister were. They were out of the way, so he came back to bring me up to his room. I felt like such a problem. "Dallon, I-I'm sorry," I told him, slightly calming down when he made me sit on his bed. "B, there is not a reason in the world for you to be sorry. Let me go get some ice for your cheek. I'll be right back," he spoke and kissed my red cheek.

I was left in his room trying to calm down, so I picked up Dallon's phone off his bed and checked my reflection. My eyes were puffy and bloodshot, my face had a decently visible handprint on it, and don't even get me started on how bad my hair looked. Dallon came back with an extremely apologetic look on his face and his mom trailing behind him. "I'm sorry, Bren. I told her not to come up here," Dallon sighed. I shrugged sadly and looked to Mrs. Weekes.

"Hey, sweet pea. D told me what happened. You are more than welcome to stay here. I know it's late, but I was baking some cinnamon rolls. Would you like me to bring some up," She spoke softly and sat next to me on Dallon's bed. "Okay, Mom. That's enough," Dallon started, but I surprisingly cut him off. "I'd love s-some cinnamon rolls, M-Mrs. Weekes," I said quietly. "Alright, dear. I'll be back in about twenty minutes," she said sweetly.

"Hey," Dallon called in a tone just above a whisper. I hummed back. "I'm proud of you." I smiled sadly and shook my head. "I can't even listen to m-my own father, Dallon. I'm n-nothing to be proud of, e-e-especially right now," I told him. He pulled me onto his lap so that my back was against his chest, and he rested his head on my shoulder. "You're always something to be proud of, Bren. I'm proud of you speaking more lately and being strong enough to deal with your dad. However, I do wish you had told me sooner," Dallon cooed. I nodded and leaned back onto him.

"Alright, boys. Here are some cinnamon rolls. I brought up glasses of milk too. D, just text me if either of you need anything else," Mrs. Weekes popped her head in the room, and I scooted off of Dallon's lap. "Th-thank you, Mrs. Weekes. I'm sorry i-if I'm being a nuisance. I know I'm with your son a-a lot," I piped up. Dallon's mom looked at me with a hint of amusement.

"Sweet pea, I don't mind you being here at all. Y'know, I never liked those other kids he hung out with, but you are a keeper. You make my Dallon happy," she put her hand on my back as she spoke. "Thank you, Mrs. Weekes," I mumbled and leaned into her. She nodded and kissed the top of my head like Dallon does. "I'll leave you be. You're no problem at all, honey." I smiled and watched her leave.

Dallon looked at the small smile on my face and hugged me tight to his chest. I leaned on his shoulder. "I-I'm sorry I ruined our day," I spoke in our a moment of comfortable silence and cinnamon rolls. "Bren, you didn't ruin our day. I had a lovely time with you today, and this whole thing with your dad changed nothing about what I said earlier," he said. "I know, I just- I-I feel like now my memory of th-the first time you said you loved me will b-be polluted by this-this horrible thing. Today should have been such a good day, Dallon, and my crappy f-family ruined it. It's-it's okay for you to be m-mad a-and-and y-y-ye-ell at me for s-s-something like this."

I looked to him for any response, but instead of a verbal one, he just crashed his lips against my own. We only parted when we had run out of breath. "I would never be mad at you for something like that, Brendon, never. Do you understand that," Dallon asked as he held my face in his hands. I nodded, not meeting his eyes. "Why would you think that I would yell at you?" I shrugged, moving my face back from his touch.

"Brendon," he started. "Because I deserve it," I mumbled inaudibly, looking down at my lap. "What was th-" I interrupted him. "Because I deserve it," I said a little louder, a small tear falling down my face. His expression fell from confusion to pure pity. "Baby, you never deserve to be yelled at, especially for something that's not your fault," he stressed to me. I shrugged and kept my gaze fixed on his blanket.

"No, Brendon. No shrugging about something as serious as this. I love you so fucking much, and I can't let you think that you deserve to be yelled at ever," he tipped my chin up and looked into my eyes as he said this. "Thank y-you, D. I don't know what I'd do wi-without you," I smiled softly and leaned against his chest after he took off his shirt and laid back onto his pillows. "I love you," Dallon whispered. "I love you too." With those three words having been spoken, I felt like the whirlwind of emotions that had occurred in the past few hours were inconsequential. Dallon and I were alone, and that's all that mattered.