Chris was quiet for long a moment after Dylan was done. It was a miracle that the latter hadn't broken down while he was telling the sickening story that had played out earlier in the night.
They were all in the living room, Dylan seated on the floor in front of the armchair in which Chris was sitting, the formers back twisting in a way that was a little uncomfortable to be able to see the other. Riley was laying on the sofa by herself, curled up in a ball with a blanket over her body. They'd been there for about three hours and the snowstorm outside seemed to have no plan to calm down any time soon.
When they got there, they'd begun with attempting to calm down Riley as she'd broken down once again- rightfully so- as soon as she'd gotten into the room. Chris had handled it spectacularly, talking in a soft voice and asking what movie she would like as Dylan grabbed the snack bowls from the kitchen counter.
Riley had fallen asleep about two hours after that, which wasn't surprising. She had to have been completely exhausted from everything that had gone down. Her soft breaths filled the room as Dylan looked at Chris, who still hadn't said anything. Then, out of nowhere, the latter stood from his seat. Dylan scrambled to his feet on instinct, the periodical clenching of Chris's jaw giving away his fury despite his silence.
They stared into each other's eyes for what felt like an eternity and Dylan's lip trembled from nothing more than the sheer emotion that Chris radiated. The football player took a breath and ran a hand through his hair.
"You know, I haven't been in a fight since junior year and it's been fine- good, even- but got I feel a need to punch someone," he muttered between clenched teeth, finally saying something. Dylan shook his head.
"That won't help anything," he reasoned, his voice weak.
"I know that I just- hey," Chris spoke up, grabbing onto Dylan's shoulders gently, looking into his eyes, "we'll figure this out. It'll be okay. Nothing they said about... anything is true. It's not wrong."
Dylan's vision went blurry. "I- I know I just-"
Strong arms wrapped around his body and he felt the first tears fall from his eyes. Surrounded in Chris's embrace, his knees almost buckled and he grabbed onto the taller as if letting go would cost him his life.
"I know that but it still hurts and- and Riley, she- they-"
"Shhh," Chris stroked his hair lightly, "it'll be okay. We'll make it okay for her."
"Yeah?"
"Yes. Now, I've actually made a bed for her in Sam's old room. She can't sleep on the couch all night," he said and Dylan nodded against his shoulder.
"We really can't. I slept on the couch last night and I've never felt that kind of ache in my back before."
"I'll give you massage later, 'f you want," Chris smiled, watching as Dylan walked over to the sofa where Ry was sleeping. He shook her shoulder gently and she mumbled some unintelligible words before opening her eyes.
"Come on, let's get to bed." He gave her a helping hand which she took and sat up. He turned his head to look at Chris. "Will you get a glass of water and an Advil?" In response, he got a short nod and saw the other disappear into the kitchen.
Riley walked behind him as they made their way up the stairs. Chris was just behind them all the way and when they arrived on the second floor, he took the lead and showed them the room where she'd be sleeping.
"The bathroom is just down the hall and if you wake up hungry you can just go into the kitchen and take anything," Chris walked to a closet and got an extra blanket which he then put on the bed.
YOU ARE READING
Like Gods
Roman d'amourDylan Brooks was basically the Golden Boy™ of Greenhill High School. He was co-captain of the soccer team, kept his grades up, and planned to become a marine biologist after college. What happens when the town's known player transfers to Greenhill...