Our Thing || Dylan O'Brien

05|

Opening the front door with a key, Cecelia walked into Dylan's apartment with a smile on her face. Besides feeling a little bit nervous of seeing him again after what she was imagining a few days ago, she was glad it was finally Saturday and she bought doughnuts from the grocery store, so they could eat them together today.

"I'm home!" she said after noticing Dylan wasn't in the living room and wanted to start walking around in the apartment to look for him but then she heard a noise coming from the bedroom. It sounded like someone stumbling over an object before she could hear a curse word.

As fast as she could she walked towards her friend's bedroom and saw him standing there with an painful look on his face. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah," Dylan laughed, shaking his head at what just happened, "I'm fine. Just a little clumsy."

Feeling relieved because he was alright, she sighed as she ran a hand through her now loose hair, looking into his brown eyes.

Because she was feeling a little nervous she had a hard time thinking of something to say to him, so it was quiet between the two. She looked away from him, wishing she couldn't feel the weird feeling in her stomach, hoping it weren't butterflies but just... well, just something else. No butterflies.

"So, you had breakfast yet?" sniggering at her nervousness, Dylan rubbed the back of his neck with his head, making his muscles flash a little as he walked past her towards the kitchen. He didn't want to make her even more uncomfortable by to keep looking at her, waiting for her to answer.

"No," Dylan heard her saying loud for him to hear before he opened the refrigerator, looking for something to eat for them both, "I just woke up."

Dylan couldn't believe his own ears.

So, she just woke up and left straight away to see him without having breakfast? That wasn't something for her. She usually had breakfast with her parents and - if she didn't have 'stuff' to do - then she'd be leaving to see him. And besides all that, she was acting all nervous and uncomfortable around him. Did something happen?

He shrugged his shoulders at his thoughts and tried to ignore it, trying to think of something she'd like for breakfast. He knew she'd like to eat something light; something that wouldn't be too heavy for her stomach. But that didn't help him at all.

Looking at the green apples, he sniggered at himself, "Cecelia, what do you want for breakfast?" He wanted to know for sure because he found it a kind of sad only giving her an apple since she always made him those delicious breakfasts.

"An apple is alright," he almost literally heard her smiling, "thank you."

So, he made himself some cereal and walked back to his room, noticing her picking up his dirty clothes that were laying on the floor. "Ehm, what are you doing?"

"You defiantly should learn to clean your room," she looked up at him with a stern look, having her hands full of clothes, "and you don't even have a basket. Where do you want me to put your clothes?"

He shook his head, smiling brightly at her cuteness as he pointed at the bathroom door, "there's a basket standing in the bathroom."

"And where is your wash machine?" she walked into the bathroom, putting the clothes into the basket before walking back to look at him again. Joey had his mother to clean his room which she found incredibly stupid, so she expected Dylan to do better.

"I don't have one," he ran a hand through his hand through his short hair in embarrassment, "my mom does my laundry."

Finding it a little funny, she sighed as she rolled her eyes, "it's because you don't have a girlfriend, but what would she think of you when you told her about your mom doing your laundry? She'd like a man doing his own laundry."

"Would you like a man doing their own laundry?" he smirked, handing her the apple before sitting down in the bed so he could eat his cereal. "Because I still don't really get why you'd be picking up my clothes and put them in the basket."

Sitting down beside him as she sighed deeply, she felt her cheeks starting to burn, "I just don't want you to sleep in a room full of clothes laying on the floor." She was looking at her hands while she shrugged her a shoulder lightly, "and expect a lot more from you than from Joey."

"What do you mean?"

He couldn't get his eyes off of her; she was so beautiful with her hair loose down over her shoulders, cheeks red and light-blue eyes looking down at her small hands that were laying on her lap. Her voice was so clean so pure that maybe if he was blind, he'd believe she was an angel.

"You know exactly what I mean, Dylan," she started playing with her fingers, again shrugging her shoulders, "you're so much better than him and I don't know... how and why. I don't understand." Her voice trailed off, sounding so quiet that Dylan had a hard time hearing it. And besides that, it sounded as if she was upset, as if she was about to cry.

Not hungry anymore, Dylan put away the bowl with cereal on the nightstand and wanted to touch her; hug her and tell her everything was going to be alright. But he couldn't. If she didn't understand it then how could he understand it and tell her everything was going to be alright?

Cecelia felt tears rolling down her cheeks, making her stand up from the bed before walking out of the room, not wanting Dylan to see her cry. And besides, she didn't know why she just blurted everything out what she was thinking in front of Dylan. What would he have been thinking?

She wiped away her tears, trying to think of something else as she turned on the TV. She sat down on the couch and sighed deeply, going through the channels.

Back in the bedroom, Dylan was still sitting on his bed with his head in his hands. He didn't know what to do, since she definitely wasn't going to talk to him about her problems like she usually did. It was like everything was going downwards; he wouldn't be surprised at all if she came with an excuse so she didn't have to come next Saturday and maybe after that she didn't even text him if she didn't come. She was feeling so uncomfortable and nervous around him and a few minutes back it sounded like if she was about to cry. Why the hell didn't she just tell him what was wrong?