summer

By citrusfemale

69.8K 2.8K 430

Dylan is Fine. Completely Fine. With a capital F. That is, until, his mother, for some reason, taken in her g... More

intro
one- summer
two- sawyer
three- dinner
four- morning
five- picnic
six- memory
seven- discussion
eight- loss
nine- panic
ten- interview
eleven- out
twelve- hypocricy
thirteen- night to afternoon
fourteen- meaning
thirteen
fourteen
fifteen
sixteen
eighteen
nineteen
twenty
twenty one
twenty two
twenty three
twenty four
twenty five
twenty six
twenty seven
twenty eight
twenty nine
thirty
epilogue
christmas

seventeen

1.9K 93 9
By citrusfemale

       "Don't say that."

      "Why?" Asks Dylan, Sawyer's words slightly stinging.

      "You don't mean it."

      "Actually, I do. Plus, I did say think."

      "One: asshole. Two: you couldn't mean it. We just met!"

       "Didn't we really meet when we were twelve?"

     "You don't even remember that!"

     "It was five years ago. Five years is enough time for me to know I love you."

     "You don't remember meeting! And, you don't love me, you think you do but you're wrong."

"No, I'm not," murmurs Dylan, scooting closer to Sawyer and holding his wrists, his scars. Sawyer frowns.

"Don't. You deserve better."

"I don't want better."

"It's what you deserve!"

"Don't I deserve what I want?"

"Dy, that's unfair...."

"It's true," he whispers, staring at Sawyer's scars. "I can't.... I don't think I could live through losing you."

"Don't say that!" Sawyer explodes, hugging Dylan to his chest. "Why would you ever.... how?"

"Because if you killed yourself I'd know that I wasn't good enough. That no matter how hard I tried that you still killed yourself and that it was my fault."

"Shut up!" Yells Sawyer, backing away from Dylan. "No! None of that is true, Dylan! You're the thing keeping me alive! Depression doesn't have to do with people, it's my brain! It could never be your fault, Dy, no!"

"But I.... I wouldn't have been enough to make you happy," Dylan whispers, his voice cracking under his emotion.

"Dylan," Sawyer whimpers, walking over to him and putting his hands on his cheeks. "You're the only thing that makes me happy anymore."

"So if you killed yourself I wouldn't be good enough!" He exclaims, sitting on his bed. "You cut because I'm not worth it."

"No, be quiet," Sawyer demands, sounding angry. "Don't talk like that. It's not true, you're lying. No. You're good enough, you're worth it. You're keeping me alive! If I died it's because of me."

"I don't want you to die," Dylan whispers. "I want your words to be true, but..."

"Dylan, they're true!" Sawyer sobs. "I can't listen to you talking like that! Stop!" He crosses over, putting his arms on either side of Dylan.

"No! You know I'm right! I don't know why you're doing this, I'll never be enough. I just wish I could keep you alive. I wish I was more than just a depressed loser!" He jumps to his feet, escaping Sawyer's arms and looking away from him. His hands sit deeply buried into his hair while tears stream down his face uncontrollably. A few sobs escape his lips but he attempts to stay quiet. A pair of arms delicately wrap around his waist from behind.

"Shhh. It's okay," murmurs Sawyer into Dylan's hair. He spins around, crying obviously now, and buries his face in Sawyer's chest.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, Sawyer's arms holding him tightly. His face is warm against Sawyer's chest as he holds him. There was a point in time when Dylan couldn't cry in front of people, he just couldn't. Now, he cried loudly and unattractively, tears pouring out of his eyes and sobs escaping his fragile body. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so-"

"Sorry for what? Dylan, there's nothing to apologize for. It's okay, it's okay." Dylan starts shaking again, his body weak from crying.

"It's not! You're not okay so I'm not okay."

"Shush, please. Dy, I'm not gonna be okay anytime soon because I've got a mental illness. It's mental, nothing to do with you or your worth."

"I won't be quiet. I mean it, if you killed yourself I'd lose my mind."

"You can't say that."

"Not only my mind, but maybe even my will to live."

"Stop. You can't. No!"

"Hell, I'd probably just give up. Starve until I wasted away," he cries, pulling away and turning around. He throws his hands in the air, sniffling and wiping away tears.

"Why are you doing this? I need you to be quiet!"

"Why? You can't handle the idea of me dying? Sawyer, that's what would happen to me if you died."

"You can't mean that! Stop saying that!" He yells, angry again.

"No! You need to accept that I care about you!" He snaps, getting closer to Sawyer.

"I'm going to ask you one more time to shut up," he hisses, putting his face right in front of Dylan's.

"No. You can't tell me what to do. I lo-" but he's quickly interrupted. By Sawyer's lips pressing against his. His arms wrap around his body, shaking with emotion. Their cheeks meet, tears mixing together.

But Dylan does something he didn't think he'd do.

He kisses him back.

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