I closed the door behind me, butterflies on fire for the first time in years. Dylan glanced around the apartment and turned, smiling at me.
"It smells like oranges in here," he murmured with a grin. "Like you," he stated. I sniffed my shirt and shrugged.
"Is that a good thing?" I asked. He nodded, smiling. He looked so happy…like his old wounds were healed long ago. Maybe he really didn't need me.
Realization struck, and the truth hurt. He'd moved on, and that boy on the phone was probably his lover…
He saw my face and came over to me, dropping his coat and scarf on my couch. It was pretty obvious that he'd come out now, he was an obvious gay.
Our eyes met and he threw his arms around my neck, and I held him back as tight as I could, letting loose all emotion I had for him that built up over the years. I touched his silky smooth and light blonde hair, but it wasn't as long as it used to be. He'd cropped it, and it no longer went past his ears. My radio still played on loud in my room, and as if fate was speaking, our song came on. I pulled back to study his new face. His crystal clear baby blue eyes still sparkled with the same passion they always have, and his hair was pushed up from his forehead, slightly spiked, but no gel. I could never picture Dylan growing facial hair, and he never had. He was just as smooth as he used to be, and his lips were the exact same shade of pink. The only difference was his face itself, he wasn't a baby anymore. He didn't have his round baby cheeks, and he was a lot more slender. He closed his eyes and leaned his face into my hand as I cupped his cheek. I used my thumb to wipe away the streaks of tears that came when he squeezed his eyes shut. His eyelashes were wet and glistening. His face twisted up and he started to cry, putting a lump in my throat.
Pulling him close, I murmured soothing words in his ear and rubbed his back. It felt weird, he was only an inch shorter than me now, and I had barely any dominance over him. He buried his face in my jacket and started sobbing, probably for the first time in a long time. I felt absolutely awful, leaving him; it was not the right thing to do. He really did need me, and he recovered of course, but it was hard. Why didn't he call? Seeing him like this made me want to die…
"Please…what can I do…?" I asked, unable to fight my tears any longer. He pulled back and wiped his eyes.
"Nothing, I should've never come here," he stuttered, rushing past me towards the door. I was frozen, shocked. He ran through the door. No…I wasn't going to let him get away again. I sprinted after him and grabbed his wrist before he made the stairs.
"No! I need to explain myself!" I shouted, pulling him back. He tried to pull away and get down the stairs but I picked him up like a baby and carried him back to my door while he squirmed around. I locked it and threw the key across the room to god knows where. He landed on the couch and I pinned his arms above his head, my leg around his waist. I used my weight to hold him down. He may have grown but I was still bigger. I gasped at myself as I felt my erection. How could I get hard at a time like this? I quickly got off and shut the blinds. I didn't want this to look like rape. It became dark quickly and I switched the lamp on.
"I don't cry…," he muttered, wiping away his tears. I turned around and looked at him. To my surprise I started laughing maniacally.
"You sure cried a hell of lot when we were together," I pointed out, slightly raising my voice.
"I wonder why!" He yelled back. I pinned his arms back again and he looked frightened. We've never yelled at each other before, and this felt so wrong. I closed my eyes and a tear dripped onto Dylan's face.
"I'm so sorry…," I sobbed, letting go.
"Why…did you leave me…?" he cried back, grabbing my shoulder as I stood up. "I needed you! I needed help Josh!!!" he screamed, his tone seeming almost terrified. "And you weren't there…"
