Awake | Book 1 of the AWAKE Series | (BWWM)

Chapter Five

Dylan

            You know, dreaming is a funny thing. One minute you’re happy the next sad then happy again and then it abruptly ends. My dreams are normally like movie trailers. The minute one gets good it’s on to the next one. In all of my years I can’t remember ever having what I would call a full dream. They have a beginning and a middle but they damned sure never have an end. Unless you can count me waking up drenched in sweat or tears, I tend to have those endings pretty often.

            I roll out of bed after that doozy of what can only be described as a nightmare, and trudge to the kitchen. The clock on the stove says it’s half past one and I groan out loud. I have to be a functioning human being in less than four hours. Instead of trying to force myself back to sleep I just get a pot of coffee started and head to the bathroom to start slowly getting ready.

            After using the restroom I take a look at myself in the mirror. The dark circles I try so desperately to hide are getting worse thanks to nights like these and is that the start of wrinkles I see? I huff out air through my nose and splash water onto my face. Nightmares always ruin my entire day and I’m getting an early start on the self-loathing today I guess. I pat around on the counter for my towel to dry my face off and feel it fall to the floor. Letting out yet another groan I ease down to my knees and grab it, drying my face off before I stand. By this time the water on face was freezing so it woke me up and felt extremely good to get off. I go to stand but something in the trash catches my eye.

Upon first glance it looks like a slightly used feminine pad which grosses me out until I realize I haven’t had my monthly yet. I still reach out and grab it with my pointer finger and thumb, picking it up like it’ll bite me. It isn’t until I feel the texture that I realize it’s the bandages I put on Dean when he was here. I smile lightly at the thought of him, it’s been almost a month since then and getting to know him slowly via text has been really fun. My smile fades when I see the amount of blood that’s actually on the bandage. Even though I was able to stop his bleeding and stitch him up there should have been more blood here than this. Just as I’m about to dive deep into thought my cell phone rings. I drop the bandage in the trash and rush to the phone. It must be an emergency if anyone’s calling at two in the morning.

“Hello,” I breathe, answering the device without looking at it.

“Open your door,” a familiar voice says and I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face.

I check my appearance in the mirror beside the door. My hair is still in the sloppy bun I put it in, my face looks a little less exhausted thanks to the cold water, and my lips are slightly chapped. I grab my EOS lip balm and slide some on before opening the door and leaning against it slightly, my attempt at being alluring.

I watch him as he takes in my appearance from head to toe, stopping to linger on where his shirt stops mid-thigh.

“Can I help you with something Dean Jarreau?” I ask sweetly, I couldn’t tell you why I’m being so…playful with him.

His eyes finally drag back up to my face slowly and he gives me that self-assured grin of his I love so much, “Actually, you can. I’m freezing my fucking balls off out here.”

I giggle at his dirty mouth and step aside. I’ve come to know over the past month that he adores the word fuck and any variation of it. How far that goes I haven’t discovered…yet. He plops down on my bed and lies all the way back. He’s so long that he stretches the entire width of the bed and his feet are still firmly on the ground.

I climb into the bed beside him with my knees beneath me, “So what’s up?”

He’s been coming over like this for the past couple of weeks when he gets too stressed only it’s normally right once I get off of work so he ends up spending the night. He sighs and rubs his hand down his face before resting both of his hands on his stomach.