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A/N: Just to clarify for anyone who's worried: this is not a smut.
"Dylaaaaaaaan!" I whine as my boyfriend, Dylan O'Brien, takes my hand and drags me into the club. I hate clubs and he knows that. All clubs are full of idiot guys who want to touch me and idiot girls who try to take Dylan away from me. And though none of them have succeeded, yet, I still worry, occasionally.
"Come on, y/n." He sighs, squeezing my hands as his dark eyes meet mine. "It'll be fun. And if you ever feel nervous, just let me know and we'll leave straight away. You got it?"
Mumbling a response, I nod. "I got it."
"Good." He smiles. "Now, come on! Let's go get our party on!" I can't help but laugh at his statement and let him continue to drag me inside.
"Dork." I tease.
As we get into the club, just as I expected, a girl immediately walks up to Dylan, gushing as she exclaims. "Oh my goodness! I'm like, you're biggest fan. Can I have your autograph?"
Dylan gives me a helpless look and I sigh. "It's fine. I'll go get a drink." I decide, not wanting to be around the fake Barbie any longer. My boyfriend looks at me like that's not the answer he wanted but is dragged away before he can be saved, anyway.
I walk over to the bar and order. "Just my usual, thanks." I sigh, resting my head on my palm. As the drink is handed to me, the bartender states. "That'll be-"
"I know how much it is!" I snap, pulling out my wallet. "Uh. . . sorry - I didn't mean to be so rude-"
Taking my money, the bartender (his name tag read Jake) leans across the counter and frowns. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." I insist, taking a sip of my drink. "I'm fine. So why don't you just mind your own business?" I groan, sigh and then bang my head on the counter top. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that either. I'm just . . . worried, I guess."
"What are you worried about, friend?" I hesitate. Though it was true the bartender and I knew each other's faces, I wouldn't say we were friends. Nonetheless, I continue.
"My boyfriend. He's a celebrity and it seems like every time we go out, someone is trying to take him from me and it frustrates me because . . . because . . . because I love him." My eyes widen. Dylan and I had only been together for a few months and though I knew we had moved pretty fast (we already lived together), I didn't think I was or would ever be ready for that sort of phrase. I never told any of my boyfriend's I loved them. The commitment scared me. But with Dylan . . . I didn't feel scared, anymore. "I love him!" I repeat. "Thank you, thank you so much for helping me realise that!" I smile, kissing the bartender on the cheek and adding a tip. "I need to go tell him how I feel!"
I get up and run through all the people in the club, trying to find him. But as soon as I do, the butterflies disappear from my stomach, and are replaced by a rock. "Dylan?" I ask, my face falling as he stands in a corner, the fake Barbie's tongue down his throat.
He pulls away, shocked, his eyes wide as he stares into mine- I can feel the tears rising. "Y/n-" He begins. "It's not what it looks like, I swear-"
"I don't have the time for this." I shake my head and turn, running out as I hold back tears. I grab the keys from our valet and get into the car, leaving Dylan behind at the club as I drive back to our house. How could he? I thought . . . I don't know what I thought. Whatever I was thinking . . . it wasn't that.
As soon as I get back to our place, I run into our shared room and lock the door behind me before letting the tears fall as I sob into his pillow. Going to the mini fridge in our room, I grab a beer, followed by two more just for safe measure before drinking and crying myself to sleep.
. . .
"Y/n. Let me in. Please?" I check the time. It's one in the morning. I've only been asleep for a few hours and the (I now count five) beer bottles are all already empty. That explains the headache.
"No." I say as I go to unlock the door. I stick my head in the small gap and look up at him. "I'm mad at you."
"I know, baby." He whispers, leaning his head against the doorframe. "And I'm sorry. If you just let me in, I can explain-"
"Noooo!" I whine. "You can explain here or not at all."
There's a look of hesitation in his eyes and part of me expects him to just walk away but he doesn't. He presses his lips to my forehead and I jerk away. Ouch. "She just wanted to talk. That's all I thought. But then, just as I told her I needed to find you, she . . . well, y'know."
"Say it." I whisper.
"She kissed me." He pauses before giving a weak laugh. "And it's truly the worst kiss I've ever had. Nothing like yours, I promise."
"Really?"
"Really." He nods. "And when you ran away, I walked the entire way home because . . . because I love you, Y/n. And I don't care if you don't love me back yet or ever. I know you already feel like we're moving too fast but I just needed to tell you that. I j-"
"I love you, too, Dork." I whisper, feeling more tears rising. I shake them away. I can't cry in front of Dylan. Not now. That's lame. "Dylan O'Brien, I am so in love with you, that it drives me insane. I've never felt this way about anyone before. I love you."
"And I love you, Y/n L/n." He laughs, pushing the door open as I step back and giving me one long kiss.
