Well here is chapter 31, hope you guys enjoy it :)
P.s. sorry about the shorter length of this chapter
(Ali's P.O.V)
A hospital. We are now parked outside the local hospital car park, and I still have no idea why. Well, at least that's the ridiculously irrational suspicion of Dylan having an affair out of the window. Thank heavens for that.
Dylan's knuckles have whitened severly from gripping onto the steering wheel with such force. He hasn't spoken a single word since he stepped back into the car. Neither have I.
Am I still mad at Dylan? A little, yes. But my curiosity to this situation completely overpowers any shred of antagonism I may feel towards him right now. Honestly, my moods never last when it comes to him. That's just the hold he has over me.
Dylan snaps me out of my reverie with the clearing of his throat. I glance in his direction but his eyes are focused straight ahead, I know he's struggling for something to say. A pang of sympathy suddenly overwhelms me and without a second thought, I reach out and grab his hand.
I squeeze tight, tracing his knuckles with my thumb until he turns to look at me. His face is twisted with emotion, his eyes filled with pain and uncertainty.
"Dylan you don't... we can go home, you don't have to explain yourself to me." I coo nervously. His eyebrows scrunch together but he's still unable to speak. "Dylan please, let's just go home." I attempt to soothe him but once again, it goes down in vain.
Suddenly he retreats his hand from mine and steps out of the car, slamming the door shut. I gasp as I watch him fall to ground and adrenaline courses once again through my body, pushing me to move quickly to his consolation.
Within a second I'm out the door and sprinting around to Dylan, who is now kneeling down on the cold, concrete floor with his head in his hands.
"Dylan," I cry in despair, getting onto my hands and knees beside him. By this time of night there are rarely any other cars around, meaning the parking lot is something akin to deserted. "Dylan please talk to me, please." I wrap my arms around his waist from behind, resting my head on his back. "Please," I beg.
I feel his rough hands holding on to mine, but with the inability to see his face, I can't tell what he's thinking.
"It's my sister," he blubbers hoarsely and instantly my mind drowns itself in unanswered questions. Dylan has a sister?
I remain quiet, unable to think of an appropriate response to this rather surprising revelation. He abruptly turns around to face me, bringing me up along with him as he stands on his two feet. I immediately pull him into a hug, wrapping my arms tightly around his waist and snuggling my head into his chest.
This is about all I can do for him right now.
I feel him stiffen for a second before retaliating, pulling me in closer to his body and resting his chin on the top of my head. He breathes deeply before carrying on with his explanation.
"They want to turn them off, Ali. The machines that are keeping her here. They don't think she's going to wake up," he whispers and I bring my head back so I'm able to better decipher what he's feeling. The pain behind his eyes is evident which makes my heart constrict inside my chest.
"Dylan, I--" I pause, "I don't understand." I mutter honestly. I had known Dylan from ages six to twelve, in those six years, never once did I hear him mention the fact that he had a sister. Dylan had always been a lonely child, I was just about the only friend he had and vice-versa.
How could he possibly have a sister?
*
After being guided through the hospital doors, Dylan still hadn't muttered another word. This has got to be the longest he's ever gone without speaking, normally he's so talkative and bubbly. Whatever is going on in his life right now must be severely affecting him, yet, I have no idea what it is.
What a great girlfriend I'm turning out to be, huh?
He escorts me past numerous double doors and up quite a few floors. His hand never releasing mine. In a way, that was quite exhausting as I had to practically jog to keep up with his pace and as we all know, I'm no Usain Bolt.
Finally, he freezes in front of a door labelled number 502. All of the rooms on this floor seem to be private, the ones where you have to pay to be sectioned away from everyone else. If I'm not mistaken, these are the rooms where you stay if you're in rehabilitation.
Dylan's sister is in here?
He struggles to lead himself in, fumbling with the door handle and taking a deep breath before finally plucking up the courage to lead me inside.
This whole room is exactly as I've seen them in movies. Clinical and pristine, everything kept a simple white or cream color apart from the machines which are probably there to keep her alive. My eyes suddenly cast down to the frail looking girl, lying limply and lifelessly on the hospital bed.
I recognise her. I don't know how, or why, but I do. Where have I seen her before?
"This is my sister. This is Penelope." He clears his throat, probably in an attempt to rid himself of the lump inside his throat. I would know.
My eyes continue to scrutinise her face, attempting to rack my brain for any information about how in the world I managed recognise her.
When I hear a whimper coming from Dylan my eyes instantly avert to his direction. He's by her bed, gripping tightly to her hand. The pain on his face brings an unwelcome feeling to my chest.
I hate seeing him like this.
I avert my gaze onto his sister once again. Her dirty blond hair cascades around her pale face, reaching just above her shoulders. It suddenly hits me.
The girl in the picture. This is the girl who was smiling happily with Dylan on the picture I found in his bedroom, it was his sister.
As I realise this, my mind suddenly fills with the undying need to have all of my questions answered. This is so sudden, so out of the blue, I don't even understand what's going on exactly.
I'm abruptly snapped out of my daze by the sound of Dylan muttering angrily under his breath.
"That son of a bitch, she wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him." His face shifts from a melancholy expression into an aggravated one.
"Dylan, what are you on about? What is going on?" I ask and he sighs deeply, motioning for me to sit down and I comply without hesitation.
"After I was born, my mom and dad had a disagreement. Apparently she left him for a year after I was born, that's when it all happened. That's when Poppy was brought into the picture." He explains and a tiny piece of this gigantic puzzle falls into place.
"I wouldn't have found out about her if she hadn't come looking for me. Apparently when she found out she had an older brother she couldn't wait to meet him, and that's when we became close. At age 12." He smiles fondly as if recalling a sweet memory. His gaze darkens as he begins to speak again.
"Last year, we had gone to a party. Some guy had asked her to go with him and there was no way I'd allow her to go alone, so Jason and I tagged along. Back when we were all good." He shakes his head. "That asshole was one of my best friends, I thought I could always trust him you know?
"So after the party I was sort of... busy with a girl. I had told Poppy to call me when she wanted to leave, but she never did. As I was leaving the party, I realised I couldn't find her anywhere. Jason was also missing." Dylan's face looks contorted, as if he's having an inner battle with himself. He glances at Poppy for a second before facing me again.
"It was three in the morning when I found out. I rushed to A&E, feeling absolutely devastated at the news I had received. Apparently Jason and Poppy were involved in a car accident, and guess who was intoxicated while driving?" He sniggers, shaking his head at the thought. "That son of a bitch got out with nothing but a broken ankle. Poppy, on the other hand--" He pauses, not needing to say anything else for me to understand what he's insinuating.
So that's what Dylan's grudge against Jason was all about. I knew it wouldn't be something as petty as a girl rivalry, Dylan isn't that shallow. It had to be something big, and now I know.
Jason put Dylan's half-sister, his own cousin into hospital and that's what changed between them, that's what made Dylan so resentful towards his cousin.
Is this Spanish soap opera material or what?
"But now..." Dylan whispers, the solemnity replaces the sarcasm in his tone, his voice now heavy and thick with emotion.
"Now they don't think she'll wake up anymore. It's been a year since all she's done is sleep. My dad obviously can't come look after her because my mom and him are always travelling so I take responsibility for her. That's where I'm always disappearing off to." He lowers his head, casting his eyes towards the floor.
I immediately leap up from the chair and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him into one of the tightest hugs. How I managed to stay seated whilst hearing how fragile his tone sounded I have no idea but now that he's done, I'm not letting go.
So we stand there, embraced in a bone crushing hug for who knows how long. However, it must've been an awful long time since a timid nurse peaks through the door and alerts us that visiting times are over.
Her prying eyes linger on Dylan for a while longer than socially acceptable, longer than what I would accept, but he doesn't seem to notice.
"Thank you," he smiles at Miss eyes-too-big-for-her-head and she blushes, leaving the door ajar as she exits.
Dylan paces over to Penelope and brushes her hair out of her face, leaving a chaste kiss on her forehead. I smile at the scene before me and feel a familiar tug at my chest, reminding me of the pain he must be going through.
As he leaves the room, I hesitate a little before I follow. I quickly amble towards Poppy and take hold of her cold, skinny hand. I know that nothing I could physically do would make her better, but it's the thought that counts.
"You hang in there, ok? You've got a lot of people here who love you, who are just waiting for you to wake up. Please don't leave them waiting." I coo, smoothing out a wrinkle on her bedsheets. I slowly release her hand, cautiously placing it back onto the bed before walking outside to meet Dylan.
"I'll be back tomorrow to speak to him myself then," Dylan speaks in a frustrated tone, rubbing his forehead with his fingers.
"O-ok, I'll have him know." This time an older looking nurse is attending Dylan. He finally lets out a breath of fresh air before turning back to me. "Let's go," he mutters before taking my hand and leading me out.
Today has clearly been a very stressful day for Dylan, and I instantly feel guilty for putting him through the extra stress that I did for ignoring him.
Of course seeing his comatose sister would be more important than solving an argument over something so insignificant with me, I don't even remember why I was so mad in the first place.
I make a mental note to apologise to him later.
Dylan doesn't deserve all this shit to deal with-- pardon my French. Dylan deserves to be the happy-go-lucky, carefree guy he has always been. I'm going to make sure he goes back to being that way, it is my duty as his girlfriend.
*
Dylan had asked me to spend the night with him because he didn't want to be home alone. As usual, his parents weren't around and I would personally shoot myself in the foot before I make the decision to leave Dylan alone at a time like this.
So I did what any wannabe good girlfriend would do, I stayed with him.
"I'm glad you're here," he whispers huskily as he plays with a strand of my hair.
We're now lying on his bed, the only light illuminating our surroundings is coming from the full moon outside. As I lie in only one of his V-necks, Dylan is clad in just his boxers as he claims he 'struggles to sleep comfortably any other way' his words, not mine.
"Me too," I murmur in agreement, trailing Dylan's toned stomach with the tip of my fingers. I feel the heavy rise and fall of his chest as my head rests on it and smile inwardly, satisfied with his reaction.
"You should really stop doing that if you want to sleep," he whispers darkly, taking hold of my hand with his free one. I raise my gaze to meet his lust-filled chocolate orbs which soften as soon as they lock with mine. "You're so beautiful, you know that?" He mumbles easily, subconsciously even.
"Dylan Scott, you will not coax your way into my panties," I feign outrage, forming an 'o' shape with my lips. He smirks at me and traces his top lip with his tongue in that way that only he can make look so irresistibly sexy.
"Oh really? Because so far I've done one hell of a job. I mean, look at the compromising position we're in right now." He gestures towards our entangled legs and his arm that's wrapped firmly around my waist.
"You're an idiot," I reply lamely, chuckling lowly. He displays a victorious grin before flicking my nose.
"But you love me," he states matter-of-factly and I glare at him playfully for the unnecessary and uncalled for flick of my nose. "I want to swim," he blurts sporadically and I stare at him like he's grown another head.
"Okay Nemo, maybe you should rest. You've had a long day." I answer him in a mocking tone. I pat his head because I know how much he hates that.
"Stop that," he mutters childishly, swatting my hand away from his hair.
"Hey, don't swat me." I bite back playfully, smacking his chest with all the strength that I don't have.
"One of these days I'll actually sue you for physical abuse, you know. My dad happens to employ some very good lawyers." He feigns seriousness but by the glint in his eyes I know he's just being an idiot like always. My idiot.
"Well hit me up when you do, until then though--" I pause and flick his nose. "Deal with it." I smile before being pinned down to the bed beneath Dylan's body. A quiet gasp escapes my lips as I realise we're skin to skin. From the way Dylan's gaze suddenly darkens, I know he feels it too.
Before I have time to digest what's going on, his lips come crashing down onto mine like his life depends on it. At first, the kiss starts off slow and gentle as his lips mould perfectly into mine, moving steadily at a sweet rhythm.
I feel his warm tongue caressing my lower lip, as if waiting for my permission to enter my mouth. I all but too eagerly comply and part my lips, allowing his tongue to slip slowly inside.
My God is this boy a good kisser.
He suddenly begins to rub circles with his thumb on my hip, raising my -- or his -- t-shirt to fully expose my long legs which I now wrap conveniently around his waist. As our kiss escalates, picking up the pace, my hand runs through his silky hair, preventing him from pulling away.
His skillful hand glides further underneath my t-shirt as he gently strokes my stomach, making me moan deep in my throat.
By this stage I can tell that Dylan is turned on. To further prove my point I give you exhibit A, his 'python of love', as he likes to call it, pressing up against my thigh. Now I'm not anything of a sexpert but surely that's a good sign, right?
All thoughts of Mini-Dylan completely vanish as he starts to trail kisses alongside my jaw and down to my neck, over to my soft spot.
"Dylan," I moan, running my hand along his muscly arms. He starts to nip and suck on my collarbone, sending an exhilarating spark throughout my whole body as his mouth hovers south.
Oh God, this feels better than eating a mouthful of churros, I muse. Dylan suddenly starts chuckling and lifts his head up so his warm eyes meet mine.
Did I say that out loud?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(Dylan's P.O.V)
"Oh God, this feels better than eating a mouthful of churros," Ali breathes as my tongue skims across her collarbone. I can't help but laugh at her bad timing, such an Alison Vincent move.
"Churros, huh?" I chortle as I stop my endless teasing and look into her mesmerising hazel eyes. Her cheeks instantly flame, bringing a lovely rosy colour to them. I love it when she blushes.
"I didn't mean for you to hear that," she mutters, seeming embarrassed as I shift my body so most of my weight is evenly distributed between my arms and not squishing the life out of my girlfriend.
"Only you would say that at a time like this," I joke in a good natured manner, resting my chin just on top of her rib cage. I admire her flawless face for a good few seconds before blurting, "you are something else, Ali." She shoots me my favourite smile of hers, the one she reserves only for me, and so I grin back.
"You still up for swimming?" She replies just as a knowing smirk creeps its way up onto my lips. You betcha bottom dollar that I am.
Yes, guys can like Annie, too. Don't judge.
I suddenly leap off my bed, carrying Ali along with me -- bridal style, might I add -- and sprint down the stairs like a little child on Christmas morning. I don't know why but ever since I woke up, I've been absolutely dying to just get into the pool and never come back out.
I guess here's my chance.
Before I know it we're outside, joined by the chilly night air. Thankfully though, I notice the steam rising up from the swimming pool so I'm instantly relieved that it's already heated.
Without so much as a warning, I launch Ali and myself inside the warm, soothing pool of H2O.
"Dylan," Ali screeches as we both come back up for air, "you didn't even give me a heads up!" She suddenly splashes me, temporarily depriving me of my ever-so-cherished ability to see.
Once my eyes finally readjust, I notice Ali glaring at me with that -- for a lack of a better word, sexy -- face she makes when she's mad.
Her little nose is twitching as her perfectly waxed eyebrows are scrunched together, making me want to launch myself at her.
Damn testosterone.
I don't, however, launch myself at her. For all you feminists reading this, I do not objectify my girlfriend as something to simply pleasure me in my times of need. Although, she does do a helluva job when that time comes around.
I'm joking.
"Are you just gonna stand there and look like a complete doofus, or are you going to apologise?"
Doofus. What a great vocabulary Ali possesses in that pretty little brunette head of hers.
"I'm sorry miss Vincent for misbehaving and it won't happen again." I mock a third-grader's voice when getting told off by a teacher, knowing full well this will not help the odds that are already not in my favour.
"You know you're a moron, right? Like, I don't know if you've caught on yet or what but, you are." She crosses her arms over her chest, her tone of voice turning me on even more. Darn it.
"And you know you're beautiful, right? Like, I don't know if you've caught on yet or what, but you are." I mirror her exact -- or nearly exact -- words and notice the corner of her lips curving upwards.
"Don't do that, Dylan. Damn it, I'm trying to be mad you and you're just. Not. Helping." She puts extra emphasis on the last three words and I can't fight back the smirk that's itching to come out.
She splashes me one more time but this time around, the playful smile on her rosy lips tell me that she's no longer mad.
Job well done, Dylan. Job well done.
We joke and mess about in the pool for who knows how long, not caring about how many minutes, or hours, had passed. We've laughed our heads off, splashed each other more times than I could count and spent a good amount of time just making out.
Right about now, Ali is propped up on my shoulders as we pretend that the water is lava and if she touches it, well, you know the rules.
Ali's long, tan legs run along my torso and I can't bring myself to ignore the fact that they're so soft. But I have to be honest, when I imagined finding myself in between her legs, this wasn't quite the position I had in mind. Not that I do it often. Not at all...
"Dylan, don't drop me." She screeches like a little child, the excitement is palpable in her voice and it makes me giddy.
If I had been focused on anything other than the smoothness of Ali's legs or the joy that the sound of her laughter brought me, I would have noticed the shadow standing in the depths of the trees that surround my house.
If I hadn't had been so distracted and wrapped up in how carefree and in complete bliss I felt whenever Ali was in my presence, I would have seen the shady figure standing there, in the darkness. Just watching us.
------------------------------------
A/N: BOO!
I know, I know. Didn't scare you. But what a way to end this chapter huh? Dylan's POV and a little mystery left behind.
If anyone can guess who the shady character was, or even if there was one, then I will give you a cookie. But who knows? Maybe it was Dylan's imagination.
Presumably not.
Mwahahahahahaha. I'll leave you guys guessing until I have time to upload the next chappy which I have not started writing yet. Please remember to vote and comment if you liked this one though :).
I love you guys to the moon and back, thanks for reading!! ♡♥♡