Finding You || Dylan O'Brien

fifteen (edited)

___

"Can I stay over at your place tonight? I don't want to be by myself." Astrid asked him. Her voice was quiet, raspy and tired. She looked a mess.

"Sure." he said, because he understood.

He pulled up in his driveway and stopped the engine, but neither of them made an attempt to move. They just sat there, their hands in the middle compartment, tired and overwhelmed. So much had happened in the last few hours that everything didn't seem to process properly.

"Do you know why Thomas was there?" she asked after a while. "His hand..."

"No idea. Maybe Minho knows." he said.

They got out of the car, Dylan watching as Astrid slowly lugged along. They went up the steps and Dylan unlocked the door. This time, the door didn't open smoothly. It pushed something along the ground, causing it to scrape against the timber and make a screech.

"Minho?" Dylan said.

He opened the door a bit wider and stepped through the small gap. Astrid followed after and they froze upon seeing what was in front of them.

The entire length of the hallway was covered in shards of glass. A few potted plants that had been on display now lay on a dirty pile on the ground, the porcelain pot broken around them. A mug lay split next to it, water pooled nearby. It wasn't just large pieces of glass, but some of it was fractured in tiny pieces and crunched under the weight of Dylan's foot.

"There's blood on some the glass," Astrid said slowly, looking around her. "You don't think Thomas..."

He panicked. "MINHO!"

He stormed his way through the glass, glass shattering under his shoes. Nothing bad could happen to Minho, he wouldn't allow it. He was the one that had been there for him since as long as he could remember. Whatever had happened between Thomas and him must've been serious. Sure, he had seen fights between them. Pointless quarrelling really - but not this.

He checked the kitchen, where glass was littered also. All the cupboards containing glass objects had been opened and emptied. Astrid had started calling out his name too, checking each room along the hallway.

Giving up on searching house, he pulled out his phone and dialled Minho impatiently.

"Pick up pick up pick up pick up-"

"Hello!"

"Minho!" He cried, relieved that he was still alive. "Where the f-"

"This is robot Minho if you're wondering, not real life fabulous Minho. You can leave a message after the-"

Beeeeeeeep.

Dylan ended the call and looked down the hallway to Astrid, who thought he had successfully called his friend.

"Voicemail." Dylan muttered, and ran past her to the stairs.

He ran up, checking his room first. There was the usual piles of clothing and papers on the table. Untouched and cold. He rushed to Minho's room. It was large, with a queen-sized bed in the middle. Thomas' usual stack of papers lay on his desk. The door to the private bathroom was wide open, but Dylan checked and no one was inside. He ran back downstairs again and saw Astrid exiting the bathroom. She shook her head.

"Try calling him again." he said. "I'll call Thomas."

He went to the living room and sat on the arm of the sofa to call Thomas. His leg jiggled anxiously in habit. He bit his lip.

"What?" Thomas said coldly upon picking up.

"Where's Minho?" Dylan asked, a little angry.

"What? I thought he was at home-"