Once Again

Chapter 26

"I love you too much to let anything happen to you. So please, just stop being so. Damn. Stubborn." He emphasises the last three words, tightening his grip around my waist. "When I can't look after you, when I don't know that you're ok, I feel useless, I feel like I'm letting you down. You have to understand that that's just how I am."

"Yes, and you have to understand that that's just how I am," I tell him, "I was born stubborn."

His eyes crinkle slightly at the corners as he gives me a fond, tight-lipped smile.

"Yes, and I'll take you any way I can have you," he hugs me closer. "Just promise me you won't do that again."  Dylan rests his chin on top of my head.

"I promise." I whisper.

It's kind of annoying how much taller he is than me. However, the good thing about me being shorter, is that every time he hugs me close, I can hear the sound of his heart beating. Strangely enough, it's one of my favourite sounds, coming a close second just after the sound of his laughter.

After seconds or even minutes, of our tight embrace, I finally pull back. I realise that for the past half hour that we've been here, I haven't heard a sound apart from those of our voices.

"Where is everyone?" I ask and Dylan chuckles lightly.

"Way to ruin the moment, Vincent." He shakes his head and I narrow my eyes at him. He leads me into their sitting room and there I notice some cardboard boxes.

"James and Grace finally found a place here in Atlanta, my parents are probably with them now helping them get settled in. God only knows where Jason has gotten himself into," Dylan explains and I nod my head as a way to say 'I understand'.

"Come," he takes my hand and leads me through a large set of double doors, man this place is big. It's like a maze up in here. We climb up a set of stairs and walk down a wide corridor. On the left side of it, a clear floor-to-ceiling window is placed, giving me a majestical view of their well-kept back garden and pool.

On the right side, an assorted row of white doors-- I wonder what's behind all of them, probably just bathrooms and bedrooms.

Dylan leads me into the last door and I follow meekly behind, is this his bedroom? Because if it is, it's nothing like I had pictured it. Not that I do that often, because that'd be weird. Anyway, the room is about the size of mine, only with less clutter. You know us girls, always wanting to hold on to the little things.

However, Dylan's bedroom is about as clean and pristine as the Queen's palace. Just like his beach house, the room is kept to a minimal, everything is either in a shade of light blue or beige. Even though everything seems so impeccable, Dylan still managed to make it feel homey.

On top of his desk, on a bulletin board, there are an array of pictures scattered across it. Swanky paintings are placed around the room and I wonder idly where he got all of this from.

"Make yourself at home, I'll be right back ok?" He tells me and I nod, the door closes behind him.

I decide I want to further inspect the pictures on the board. Padding my way across the dark wooden floor, I finally reach my destination. My eyes run along the length of each and every picture.

One of them is of him, his mom and dad in front of the Big Ben; he's been to London? Now there's news. As my eyes shift to the left, I spot a picture of me and him as kids.

I'm sitting on a swing smiling widely as Dylan stands behind me. I remember this day so clearly, mostly because it was the week before I lost him. How things have changed since then, on the day of his funeral I still remember setting a yellow tulip on top of his casket.