Dylan O'Brien Imagines

More Than Friends-Dylan O'Brien

The night he said that I started to really think about our relationship since I moved to LA with him. We were living together, we spent any free time we had together, and we were closer than before.

"Yes," I finally said. "I think I am."

* * * * *

I sat on my bed, nervously bouncing my leg as I looked down at my phone. I wasn't entirely sure what I was waiting for, but I waited. I sighed when I noticed my hands starting to shake. I tossed my phone onto my bed and stood up, starting to nervously pace across my room. I jumped when my phone started ringing. I hesitated before answering it.

"Hey," I said, trying not to sound as nervous as I was.

"Hey, you. How was your birthday? Sorry I couldn't call you yesterday on your actual birthday. We went and filmed one of the scenes in the cabin and we didn't have any service. I would've called you. I swear."

"I trust you," I laughed. I cleared my throat as I reached up and started to fiddle with the locket he gave me.

"Did Tyler give you my present?" He asked. Before I could give him an answer he started rambling. "Maybe I should've given the present to someone who wasn't guilty of always getting drunk at every party. Like Holland. She would've been the better choice. Shit, I should've given it to her."

"Dylan," I cut him off. "Don't worry. Even in his drunken state, Tyler remembered to give me your present."

"Good," he said, letting out a sigh of relief and a soft laugh.

"Dyl," I said, my voice getting caught in my throat as tears formed.

"Y/N? Are you okay? I didn't mean to make you cry. I thought. . ."

"No," I said quickly with a small giggle. "I love it! I mean. . . I can't believe you went back and bought this for me. Dylan, I can't believe you would do something like this for me."

"Really?" He asked, sounding a little weird. "Well," he cleared his throat, "of course I would do something like this for you, Y/N. You're. . . You're my best friend."

"I know," I stuttered. "It's just. . . No one has ever done something like this for me."

"Well," Dylan said, clearing his throat again. "You deserve it."

Silence fell between the two of us, a newfound awkward tension now part of our relationship. And I hated it.

"I gotta go," Dylan said, his voice soft. "We're filming another scene and I have to get down to the costume trailer and. . . I'll call you later."

"Dylan, wait."

My heart dropped into my stomach when he hung up. I slowly pulled my phone away from my ear, tears streaming down my cheeks. I sat on the end of my bed, a sob getting stuck in my throat.

The next few days were hell. Dylan didn't call me like usual. He wouldn't even text me back. Something was going on but I had no idea what it was. There was this tension between the two of us and I didn't know how to get rid of it.

I reorganized the makeup counter for the fifth time today. I didn't acknowledge it when the trailer door opened.

"You okay?"

I looked up at the mirror to see Holland standing in the doorway. I sighed as I turned around and leaned against the counter.

"This whole "Dylan and I not talking" thing is killing me," I said, my voice breaking. She sighed as she walked into the trailer and closed the door.