Endlessly

Day eleven

Gerald took me for another shower in the morning, and when I came back I was suprised to see Dylan out of bed. He had been sleeping for almost three days straight, only waking up for a few minutes to conversate.

"Glad to see you finally woke up," I said.

"Glad to see you finally showered," he remarked, pinching his nose between his thumb and index finger.

Gerald cleared his throat from the doorway and motioned for Dylan to follow him. He's probably going for a shower.

I waited until I could no longer hear the clicking of their footsteps echoing down the hall before rushing over to Dylan's bed. When he first arrived, I had seen him carrying a little notebook, small enough to fit in his pocket. I remembered him tucking it under his pillow before falling asleep. I grabbed its smooth leather surface and hungrily opened the first page, hoping for any information that would link us together and explain why we were both here.

To Dylan:
I hope you recieve this when you are much older and are no longer mad at me for leaving. I need you to understand it was the only choice I had and I would not have left if I did not have to. I wrote in this book so you know what really happened. Please read.

I immeadiately shut the book, feeling guilty for picking it up in the first place. Even though I longed to read on, I stopped myself, placing the book back under his pillow where I found it.

A few minutes later I heard the familiar sound of a keypad unlocking the door and the shuffle of feet entering the room. As I turned to look at Dylan, my breath caught. He was wearing navy sweatpants and a grey tshirt that hugged his abdomen and exentuated his toned arm muscles. His hair was wet and neatly slicked back.

I didn't realize I was staring until Dylan gave me a funny look and moved towards his bed.

"Whats wrong? Does my hair look bad?" He asked, subconciously brushing his fingers through his smooth brown locks.

"Nothing. I've just never seen you so clean." I replied.