chapter #12: almost

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A/N: I would apologise for the long chapter but u gays are probably used to it at this point 😔👊🏻

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Cyrus felt as though a rug had been rudely pulled out from under his feet. He kept opened his mouth to say something, to say anything, only to close it again a moment later and continue to stare blankly.

Dylan seemed to find this amusing if the smirk on his lips was anything to go by.

"You obviously haven't changed much," he said, flicking his gaze towards the jumbled pile of things in Cyrus' locker. "And neither has your locker."

Cyrus tried to roll his eyes as nonchalantly as he possibly could, but on the inside, he was the total opposite of nonchalant.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

Dylan just shrugged. "I could ask you the same. School's out, you know?"

Cyrus rolled his eyes and turned back to his locker. "I'm helping out with prom," he mumbled, reverting back to rummaging around. "Not that it's any of your business."

"Ouch," Dylan teased, raising his arms in mock surrender.

Cyrus was very happy to keep rummaging for tape until Dylan got bored and wandered away. He couldn't deal with something like this on a Monday afternoon when the week had barely even started.

"Well. He's cute."

Any plans that Cyrus previously had were thrown out of the window. He immediately turned back around, feeling anger begin to rise in his throat. Dylan was one of the only people who could get him riled up within seconds, and that fact in itself frustrated him to no end.

"What are you talking about?"

Dylan smiled, clearly content with the attention he had gained again. Cyrus had to take a deep breath in order to stop himself from doing something stupid - like breaking down right then and there. That smile was Dylan's 'I win' smile, and it never failed in making him feel hopeless.

"Oh come on - him," said Dylan, nodding his head pointedly in TJ's direction.

He was laughingly putting up silver stars alongside the posters, helping the tenth-grade boy when he couldn't reach something.

"I can't believe how small you are," TJ teased, only to receive a playful shove in return.

"You're older," the boy replied stubbornly.

Cyrus couldn't help but smile fondly at the sight, forgetting for a brief moment that Dylan was even there. TJ was nothing but kind and playful towards everyone, and seeing it always made him melt slightly.

Dylan let out a low whistle, which had Cyrus' gaze snapping back to him.

"It's bad, huh?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Cyrus insisted, maybe a little too forcefully.

He turned back to his locker and continued to look around in his bag, despite having found the tape at this point. Dylan scoffed behind him.

"I was watching him back in that room," he said.

Cyrus kept his gaze trained on his locker. "Creepy, but okay."

Dylan chose to ignore the comment. "He seems pretty buddy-buddy with everyone. Don't you think?"

Cyrus just bit his lip. He honestly didn't know why he was still entertaining this conversation.

He really did mean to say something like 'So?' but what ended up coming out was a confused 'What do you mean?'

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