Right There || Dylan O'Brien

chapter thirty; kitchen kisses

Days had flown by.

He felt like a robot, doing the things he usually did. Waking up, eating, work, make dinner and eat, shower and go to bed. He felt lonely, even when he hung out with his friends he didn't feel like himself without her. It was stupid, it honestly was the most stupid thing that had overcome him and it irritated him.

He could live without her, he could be happy without her. He could go through the day without the urge of calling her every second. He had done it for years until they had to go to Ikea and look for furniture. If he hadn't noticed her there with her beautiful smile and the way she happily tried out couches, he wouldn't have had to encourage himself to talk to her. It was luck-...

Dylan walked into his apartment and closed the door behind him, throwing his key on the table. He sighed and flopped down on the couch.

Luck, what the hell? Having to feel like a robot all day, doing the exact same things wasn't what he called luck. It was more like... shit. Dog shit.

A dog. Maybe had to get a dog, or a cat. Clara liked cats, if he got a cat she would be here more and stay longer. She could name him because to him, it didn't matter. But he did like dogs better and he had to choose for himself, right? He had to get a cat and a dog. Best idea.

He was about to rub his eyes and turn on the TV until he heard a laugh. That laugh, he knew that laugh. Standing up quickly, he ran towards his bedroom to open the door and see Clara on his bed with a laptop on her lap, books and several papers were lying all around her. 

Was he dreaming?

"Oh hey, Dyl," a smile appeared on her face, removing one earplug out of her ear. "I forgot the time Seana told me you'd finish working for today. Numbers aren't really my thing. How did it go?"

 "Good. It was fine. Perfect." He was speechless, watching her grab one of the books and search through it as he sighed. He was sure what to do, what to say. He wanted to lay down next to her and cuddle up with her, tell her to stop doing her homework but he also wanted her to feel herself at home and do her own thing. What was she doing here?  

"I made lasagna for us, now all you have to do is put it in the oven."

"Then I'll be in the kitchen."

She nodded and typed in a sentence she just read. "Yeah, I'm almost done."

Dylan left her alone to go to the kitchen, doing what she told him to. The dish she made looked delicious, but it didn't surprise him. If her cake was perfect, no doubt everything she cooked was amazing.

Talking about cake, baking supplies were lying in a corner of the counter. She actually bought them for their third 'date' that would be this weekend. Why did she do that? Surprising him, again and again.

But now that he thought about it, he bet she didn't even know she was doing it.

Like right now. She had just made dinner and was doing her homework on his bed. It seemed she was feeling more relaxed than at the times she was here before, laughing and listening to music. Acting like it was a daily activity, hanging out at somebody's apartment while they were at work-...

He found himself smiling, leaning his body against the counter until he heard a yell coming from the bedroom. "Dylan, do you know what this word means? Eq-... eh, equivocate?"

"What is it?"

He sat down aside from her on the bed, reading the whole sentence she didn't understand and sighed dramatically. This what she had to for homework? Oh my God, he was so glad he already had work without even having to go to college.