Dylan's POV
I woke up confused, my head hurt as a result of an intense dream and then because for the first time in months I wasn't waking up from my slumber and being greeted by a hospital room I felt uneasy beyond comprehension.
Then I noticed the small brunette curled up beside me and I exhaled with enormous relief as I remembered Lola had bought me back to what I now knew was our home. The tension in my body disappeared and my body relaxed again, my grip on her tightening and I calmed down and snuggled with her once again.
Lola stirred slightly, yawning a little before relaxing once again, and I took a few precious moments to look at her properly. Since I woke up with amnesia in the hospital all that time ago, she was the only person who argued and fought to remain by my beside, she only ever left me twice and that was only once someone else I was close friends with took her place.
There was no denying that she was beautiful, hell, she's absolutely breathtaking and it struck me as insane as to how this woman wasn't taken. If how she has been with me these past few months and by the sound of it, my entire life, are anything to go by, this woman was an absolute god send and any man or woman alive would be blessed with luck to have her.
I was lucky to have her in my life and for her to have wanted to spend last night with me. If I could have it my way, I would spend every day and night till the end of time with her.
Her body, bare curled up perfectly beside me, her hand lay beside her head on my chest, as she took steady breaths, a few lose strands of hair covered her face, her lips were parted slightly and I smiled, happy, content and settled for what felt like the first time in a long time.
One thing continued to linger and bug me in the back of my mind though, the only thing that was stopping me from making decisions that would help me accept my past and pave what could be my future.
I sighed, torn between waiting it out and hoping something comes back to me, something than would help clear the fog and help me figure out who my supposed love is? Who's the girl in the stories and more importantly where the fuck is she? So far the only person in my life who seems to care about my health and well being and the fact that I'm even alive is Lola.
Lola who was in the same car accident and thank heavens survived because had she not made it, I don't think I could of lived with myself.
It was that thought alone that made my mind up, leaning over to grab my phone, careful not to make any sudden moves that could disturb Lola, I clasped it in my hand. I had to do the one thing I said I wouldn't.
I had to dig too far.
I went straight to Instagram, this being the one place I knew I'd find an account that had everything I needed to know about me and the beautiful girl sleeping beside me, the same girl who knew the girl from the stories.
lolaxdylan.
Using the touchpad, I scrolled and scrolled, back to the first posts from almost six years ago, for the first ten minutes I didn't really bother with reading the captions, as the account owner Lizzie, only used emojis at first. It's only when posts from 2014 started showing that she started captioning them, that I really started paying attention.
As I scrolled more and more, the pictures of me and Lola evolved, from selfies and goofy candids, to pictures of holidays and family events. Christmas' and Halloween's, red carpets and birthdays and then fan edits.
It quickly became clear that these photos, were far beyond friendship worthy, the closeness and amount of time we clearly spent together was far exceeding that of best friends even, if I had a "girlfriend" there wouldn't be thousands upon thousands of holidays and special occasions I spent alone with Lola.
As I scrolled more in 2015, paparazzi photographs of me and Lola strolling around LA, at the gym and on film sets of mine began to show more frequently and then came childhood photos. Pictures of our school years and one picture in particular caught my instant interest almost immediately. A photograph of a much younger Lola, holding the book. The very book she'd told me she'd borrowed from the girl in question, the very book that I knew damned well, was tucked into my duffel bag downstairs and suddenly it dawned on me, that Lola wasn't telling me stories of me and some girl she knew.
She was telling me her own life. She was telling me the stories of her life; of her life with me.
Shit.
YOU ARE READING
Seventy nine - Dylan O'Brien (completed)
FanfictionI had seventy nine hours to remind him. Seventy nine hours to tell him, not only who he was but who I was. Seventy nine hours to tell him how we met. I had just seventy nine hours to tell him just how we fell in love. After that he'd be gone forever.
