Thomas's pov

38 days remaining

Dyl: where you @ you hoe

Me: on my way bitch
Me: sorry dilly-dally

Dyl: do you want to fucking die

I lightly smiled at Dylan's texts, placing my phone down on the bathroom counter. Walking carefully so as to avoid slipping on the wet floor, I sidled over to the other end of the room to hang up my damp towel. The room was steamy and hot from my last shower still, making it feel quite sticky on my pasty skin. I turned back to the counter, straightening my shirt as I did so.

Biting my lip, I hesitated in front of the large mirror that stretched the length of the bathroom. The temperature of my steaming shower had in turn fogged the mirror, creating a large, opaque expanse of glass in front of me. Raising my hand from my side, I lightly moved to wipe away the steam, the mirror cool on my clammy palm. Small drops of condensation formed at the edges of the space I just cleared, like teardrops on a torn canvas.

I looked at my reflection for a moment. Would Dylan like it? I had chosen each item of clothing with extreme care tonight, from my light gray button-up shirt to my beige khakis. I knew Dylan wasn't a big fan of my "tough guy, leather jacket" look, so I decided that I'd don a more innocent appearance for our date. I tussled my hair a bit and pushed it up off my forehead, practicing my smile as I did so. For now, this would have to do. Dylan was already waiting for me downstairs.

Reaching down to grab my phone again, I smiled when I saw I had a few more messages from Dylan, all sent in rapid succession. I scrolled through them slowly, fighting off the large grin creeping up on my lips as I read his many death threats if I didn't get my butt downstairs immediately. I began moving towards the door, but at the last second, glanced up at the mirror again.

And suddenly it was as if my legs had forgotten how to move. I froze, looking at the steaming expanse of impenetrable glass, knowing that my reflection was hidden by that blank veil. The space I had previously cleared had already re-fogged, and all I saw was a cloudy white surface.

Was I ready to do this? My heartbeat seemed to suddenly spike as I thought about my reality, about my date. What if it went sour? Or worse, what if it went well?

I blinked, dazed slightly from my last thought. I couldn't afford to think like that. Thinking like that would mean Dylan would get hurt. And as much as I hated to admit it, I didn't want him to get hurt.

The smile that had been growing on my lips suddenly melted away, like snow on a warm spring day. My hands fell to my sides, and my shoulders sagged, rejected. The steam on the mirror slowly began to ebb away, but I was still slightly obscured. I stared levelly, my body still not completely in view.

And suddenly, with the force of a torrential wind, it hit me; I was a steamed up mirror, a prisoner hiding behind an opaque veil of lies. Dylan would never really, clearly see me--maybe if he was lucky he'd see glimpses of movement or shadowed reflections of who I really was, but he'd never get a full, uninterrupted sight of my true personality. The figure staring back at him would never be the authentic version of my motives and personality, because I, as a foggy mirror, would always be hiding something; I'd always be hiding the truth.

I must have been standing there longer than I knew, because by the time I came back to reality, the mirror was cleared. There I was; the only explicit, unambiguous version of myself that would ever exist. When the steam faded and the mirror was plain, that's when Dylan would finally see me, see the deceit and the lies that had laced my voice since our very first meeting. He would finally see the person staring back at me in the mirror, unable to hide anymore.

I let out a long breath of air through my nose, looking steadily into my reflected eyes. It wasn't often that I saw myself like this--I mean, surely I didn't always look this--this sad. I couldn't help it though, and I definitely couldn't help the small bouts of self-loathing that seemed determined to make an appearance in my mess of emotions. To anyone else I probably looked the same as I always did, but I guess I wasn't really looking at my average, plain features. I was looking past all that, onto a field I never really challenged; all I saw was a liar, a shameful, unforetold child playing with something fabricated much larger than himself.

For the first time, I wondered why I had ever said yes to the bet.

Shaking my head, my eyes dropped to scan over my body. I was a fake, a fraud, a coward. I was too afraid to face the past, to face the truth, so I threw down whoever and whatever was in my way, trying to break the bridge that bonded me to my highschool years. That's why I said yes to the bet; I was a fucking coward, and Reggie had been the one threatening to recreate the ties between me and Elijah, the ties I had so unwillingly broken. Dylan just so happened to get in the way of my path of destruction again.

I was a fucking coward making a big fucking mistake, and I didn't even want to admit it.

Briefly, I couldn't help but wonder if in a different world in a different time under different circumstances, if I'd still be standing here, preparing myself for a date with Dylan. Would fate still align for us to be together, or was I going against the forces of nature?

My gaze traveled up the mirror to meet my eyes once more. The eyes of a traitor.

Dylan deserved better than me.

I scanned my face one last time, my expression an image of dawning disappointment. Never letting my eyes stray from my reflected brown pair, I shook my head, ever so slowly, disgusted with the almost unrecognizable person staring back.

Then I turned off the light and left.

__________________________________________________________________________________

My fingers clenched tight around the basket as I hurried down the hall, aware that Dylan was still waiting for me in the lobby. Suddenly, the door to my right burst open, and I jumped, falling to the side.

"Oh, sorry Thomas," Kaya muttered when she saw my startled face.

Calming down slightly when I realized that it wasn't a masked murderer coming from the room, I stopped, turning to look at her. "It's alright. Listen, I'd love to stay and chat, but I'm kinda in a hurry."

"Oh, where are you going?"

My brow crinkled in. Kaya spoke to the floor, as if she felt ashamed to be in my presence.

"On a date with Dylan," I explained absentmindedly. When Kaya didn't perk up at my news, I immediately knew something was definitely wrong. She had never been one to hide how much she thought Dylan and I should be a couple. This news alone should have made her scream.

"Oh," Kaya said without looking up. "I'll see you around then. Have fun."

And then she turned and walked in the opposite direction, and I was too baffled by this drastic change of personality to even ask if she was alright.

__________________________________________________________________________________

"Hey, sweetcheeks," I called with a smirk as soon as Dylan's figure came into my view. He looked up, immediately shooting off the couch with a nervous smile on his face.

"Took you long enough," Dylan rolled his eyes as he stepped closer, but the smile on his face told me he didn't really care.

"Perfection takes time, you know," I replied, gesturing to myself with my right hand. I put the picnic basket I had brought from my room down at my feet, my arm feeling like it was about to fall off.

Dylan raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't explain why it took you so long though..."

My jaw dropped in indignation. I raised my arm, hitting him on the shoulder lightly, as if that would be enough to scold him for what he was insinuating. Shrugging it off, I said, "You look good though. Who are you trying to impress?"

I smirked and Dylan flushed a light pink. How cute. I wasn't lying though--he did look better than usual. By now, Wes had let him grow out his hair again, so it flopped lazily to the side, just messy enough to look down right perfect. He was dressed in a maroon three-quarter-sleeved shirt, with dark jeans to match. I eyed him carefully, and he blushed again.

"Well, I figured that if we went out to dinner, there might be a cute waiter trying to get my number again. I'd want to look decent for him," Dylan explained with a smirk, despite his blushing.

My eyes shot up to his, and I glared.

"But," Dylan continued, "seeing as you are a total cliché, and you have a picnic basket in your hand, I'll take a wild guess that we're not going to a diner anyway. So I guess the only cute boy I'll be seeing tonight is you."

Ignoring the fact that he just called me cute, I said, "Congrats, Sherlock, it looks like you have me figured out." I reached down and picked up the picnic basket, and just like that, we both seemed to realize that this was a date. We were going on a motherfudging d a t e.

Shit.

I gulped, suddenly feeling slightly nervous. It's just Dylan, I reminded myself. No matter what, we always have fun together. But the fact that it was Dylan of all people only made me more nervous. I didn't want to mess this up.

"Shall we?" I asked, holding out my arm like the charming little fucker I am. Dylan rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath about crappy romance novels, but slid his arm within mine. I tightened my grip, leading him to the company vans outside.

Then, like the little smooth ass motherducking person I am I slid out of Dylan's arm and opened the passenger side door for him. I even did a little bow, gesturing for him to enter.

But get this; the twat waffle didn't even have enough manners to do as I was suggesting.

"Woah, wait. You're driving us?" he asked, looking both surprised and scared.

"Yeah, why?"

"Do you even know how to drive on the right side of the road?" Dylan looked alarmed.

"Relax, I've done this once before," I waved him off, gesturing to the seat again.

Dylan squeaked. Like actually fucking squeaked.

"Once?" he asked. I nodded, so he hurriedly continued, "Are you sure you don't want me to drive?"

This time I rolled my eyes. "Yes, Dyl. Now shut up and get in. You aren't supposed to know where we're going anyway."

Dylan hesitantly climbed into the van, perching precariously on the edge of his seat. Before I could close the door, he asked in a curious voice, "I thought yesterday you said we were going to the park?"

I huffed. "We are. But pretend like you don't know where we're going because that's so much more cliché and romantic." And even when I closed the door, I could hear Dylan laugh.

I hopped around the car, throwing the picnic basket into the backseat, and then clampering into the driver's seat. The keys were left on the dashboard as always, making me question the overall security of this movie, and so I turned the car on with a victorious smirk on my face. Dylan leaned forward and eagerly put on some soft music, dancing in his seat a bit once he settled for a station. My smirk changed into a small smile.

Taking a deep breath, I backed out of the parking space. My hands were tight on the wheel, clenching as if I was afraid to let go. I had exaggerated a bit by saying I'd only driven once--I've actually driven a car twice. I'm not sure the second time counted though, as it was just down the road to the trailers. The first time--well, it's not like I killed anyone, but I don't think that old grandma enjoyed her near-death experience.

We don't need to tell Dylan that part.

I put my foot on the gas, edging towards the exit of the hotel. I silently reminded myself that I had to stay on the right, not the left, like I might in Britain. Then I pulled out, ignoring Dylan as he muttered prayers.

We pulled safely into traffic, and I let out a breath of relief. I glanced over, smiling amusedly when I saw Dylan had a death-like grip on the seat and door frame. Then, distractedly, my eyes flicked down, across his chest and the well-muscled parts of his body. And his jawline, oh sweet mother of pearl, I need to appreciate that baby more--

"Thomas!"

I jerked the wheel to the right out of impulse, my eyes searching ahead of me for signs of danger. I heard the screeching of breaks and the squeal of tires, but all I felt was the blind fear clenching at my heart. It was like someone had grabbed my heart and squeezed it as tight as they could.

This was all followed by a loud honking of a horn. I glanced back in the mirror, my heart racing, to see that we had just narrowly avoided colliding with a car coming in the opposite direction. It also looked as though I had completely blown through a stop sign.

Relieved that no one had gotten hurt, I figured that maybe I should keep my eyes glued on the road next time. But hey, it's not my fault Dylan is so damn distracting.

"Are we dead?" I heard next to me. I spared half a second to glance at Dylan, who had his hands over his head and was peaking at the road between his fingers. "I'm too young to die."

"Not dead yet," I said, and I was surprised to find that I was still so scared that my voice shook slightly.

"Hey Thomas?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm driving us home later."

__________________________________________________________________________________

The second half of our drive proved to be less eventful than the first half, but I couldn't exactly complain. Ten minutes later, we pulled safely into the park, Dylan still cursing me out for "being too British to even drive on the right side of the road." We both piled out of the car, breathing deeply as we looked out over the large park.

I was right to pick this for our first date. Despite the slightly ominous clouds drifting idly overhead, it was a perfect day; the park was quite empty, apart from us, a soft breeze ruffled our hair, and it was just warm enough to be comfortable.

"This place is gorgeous," Dylan breathed as he came around the van. Normally the sun would soon be setting, but as the clouds covered the entire expanse of the sky, it was impossible to see the sunset.

"Well, I had to take my beautiful date to a beautiful place," I explained offhand, as if it were obvious. I grabbed the picnic basket, smiling when I looked over and saw Dylan blushing again.

"How come you were never this flirty before?" he asked. He reached over and grabbed the picnic basket from my hand easily, despite my objections. I just winked at him, so he rolled his eyes, shifting the picnic basket between his hands.

"Good God, how much food did you pack?" he groaned.

I gasped. "You can never have enough food."

Dylan held up his left hand, showing that he innocently agreed with me. We stepped off the pavement into the grass, brushing shoulders as we did so. My bare skin just barely touched his, and the small area of contact tickled lightly as I discreetly shivered. Dylan didn't seem to notice.

"Do you want to go for a walk first?" I asked after a moment.

Dylan nodded, but glanced down at the basket in his hands. "You can just put that under that tree," I pointed before he could ask.

"Are you sure? What if animals get to it?" Dylan said hesitantly.

I smiled at his adorab--at his concern. "It's fine. The basket should keep everything out."

Dylan still looked unsure, so I grabbed his hand, beginning to pull him away. He had no choice but to drop the basket under the nearby tree, or else be forced to carry it for the rest of the walk.

It took me a few seconds as we walked side by side to realize that our hands were still connected. Instead of pulling away, I laced my fingers through his. Dylan glanced down at our intertwined fingers, but instead of saying anything, he squeezed my palm while a faint blush coated his cheeks. For some odd reason, I found myself blushing as well.

We found a path and began our trek along it. The park was right near deserted, and just--so indescribably peaceful. Dylan looked calm and content when I glanced over at him, a small smile on his lips as he thought.

"Hey Dylan, do you know what uphottie is?" I suddenly asked, more so to break him out of his thoughts.

Dylan blinked, giving me a curious look. "No."

"Hm, that's a shame," I said with an exaggerated sigh. I was basically forcing him to ask.

"What is it?" he asked once he realized I wasn't going to explain.

"What's what?"

"Uphottie."

"Oh, you know what that is?" I asked, fighting away the playful smile pushing at my lips.

Dylan was starting to look annoyed, which only added to my amusement. "No, I don't, that's why I'm asking."

"Oh," I replied annoyingly.

Dylan groaned and stopped walking in his frustration. "Thomas, what is up-hottie?"

I smiled and winked at him. "Nothing much, how 'bout you, gorgeous?"

Dylan's face was blank for a second. Then, as realization dawned on him, he used his left hand to hit me across the chest. "I hate you," he muttered. I noticed that he didn't let go of my hand though.

And so we continued walking. Our conversation suddenly changed from playful bickering to actual meaningful topics, from our families to our pets, to past jobs and the reasons we got fired, from the reasons we need equality to questions as to why racism even existed. We talked about nothing and yet everything, so relaxed and so easy that I could've been talking to my best friend. We laughed and blushed and floated along for over an hour, oblivious to the world around us. It was like we were encased in our own little bubble of time.

Our footsteps slowed once we got to the picnic basket, and I suggested we eat. But as I stepped closer to my wicker basket, I jumped back just as suddenly in fright.

"AGHHH!!" I screamed, falling back into Dylan's firm chest. He caught me easily, watching with me as a squirrel popped up out of our basket. Somehow, it managed to hold one of my carefully made sandwiches in its little devil hands. It froze when it saw us, silently staring us down.

"Get out of here, you satanic little devil!" I exclaimed, pushing out of Dylan's arms to shoo the thing away. The squirrel scurried away, my neatly made sandwich somehow still wrapped in his clutches.

Dylan laughed behind me as I chased after the furry beast to no avail. Finally giving up, I turned around, fake pouting. At least Dylan had been chivalrous enough to set up what was left of our picnic out on the blanket I had packed. He watched me with a smile, patting the spot next to him.

"He took my food," I pouted. "Now we'll starve."

"Trust me, we won't be starving anytime soon," Dylan said, eyeing all the food he had laid out on the blanket. Okay, maybe I had went a bit overboard. I had grapes, cut up fruit, three (now two) sandwiches, juice boxes, crackers, chips, soda--everything. In my defense I wasn't sure what Dylan really liked, so I just packed it all. Besides, the joyful look and wide smile on his face didn't exactly make me regret it.

We dove right in, attacking the food like a pack of wild animals. We had spent so much time together over the past two months that we seemed to skip the part of dating where you're uncomfortable eating around each other, instead opting for having a legitimate eating contest instead. I'm not kidding; Dylan bet me that he could eat more than me, so of course I took the challenge. Daddy doesn't lose. (cringes as I wait for the daddy comments)

But just as I was about to call it quits and let him claim victory, the dark clouds opened up, and it began to rain.

"Come on!" Dylan exclaimed. He got to his feet, holding his hands out to help me up too. I accepted his offer and allowed him to pull me to my feet, but just as I turned to start cleaning up Dylan pulled me into the light drizzle. "It's my turn to be cliché!"

"Agh, it's wet," I complained immediately. Dylan didn't let go of my hands though, pulling me forward into the open field around us. He laughed, the sound breathtaking amongst the soft patter of rain hitting the leaves of trees. I watched as a raindrop landed on his cheek, falling down like a tear.

Dylan dropped my hands, and I glared at him for pulling me into the rain. It was cold. And wet. And dripping down my spine.

"Oh, would you prefer dry rain?" Dylan asked, reminding me of my last complaint. The question alone almost made me roll my eyes. Could this guy get anymore sassy?

Dylan looked up at the sky. "Excuse me, mother nature?" he called, his voice as loud as a shout. I watched him, a smile already forming on my lips. "Yeah, my little princess down here doesn't seem to like your wet rain. Can you make it rain dry?....Oh, oh you can't? I should tell him to toughen up? Isn't that--"

"St-o-p," I said pushing my hands against his chest. The single word was broken by my laughter, and Dylan looked back down at me with a twinkle in his eye.

It was only then that I noticed our close proximity. For a single second, a flash of infinitesimal time, I had a burning desire to kiss him.

"May I have this dance?" Dylan broke my thoughts. I blinked, cheeks burning due to my last train of thought. Dylan looked like he wanted to say something, but instead he held out his palm for me to take.

I felt like I was just five years old, standing in my backyard, singing in the rain. I slipped my slightly smaller palm into Dylan's, our hands fitting together like a lock and key. His smile was small, but perhaps the best one I had ever seen on his face. It was warm, caring, cherishing, just like him. He watched me carefully, pulling me closer and settling his hand on my hip.

And then we started swaying. Yes, it was predictable and sad and so horribly cliché, but not a single bone in my body seemed to care. An interminable amount of circumstances lead to this very moment in time, and I wasn't going to waste a single second wishing things were different. Standing in Dylan's arms, as the water fell down my back, I wished I could stay here, in this moment forever; forget the near-death car ride on the way here, forget the burglar squirrel, forget the cold, wet rain that was slowly getting heavier. Forget all other circumstances and realities and problems and people, because right here, as I danced with Dylan, this was where fate wanted me. I knew without a doubt, that even in a different world in a different place under different circumstances, I would still want to be here.

"Tommy, look," Dylan said softly. Up until that moment our gazes never wavered, trapped between the space that was both too large yet too confining between us. I followed his eyes upwards, where the sun had somehow fought to make its way through the dark clouds.

My breath caught. The sun rays lit up the rain as they fell down towards the earth. I could make out each individual raindrop as it fell from fifty meters up, so beautiful, so temporary.

And behind all that, a rainbow.

"There's always rainbows when two gay guys are near each other," I said quietly.

Dylan gave a soft laugh, and with both of us still watching the rain as it fell, he pulled me closer to his chest. I stumbled slightly, but rested comfortably as his grip on my hip tightened.

My eyes fell to look just slightly up, where Dylan's face was. I knew I shouldn't be staring, not when the world was doing magnificent things around me, but to me the only thing that really drew my eyes was him. So as Dylan looked towards the sky, my eyes never left him.

And we continued to dance.

__________________________________________________________________________________

Dylan and I were still holding hands when I walked him to his hotel room. We were dripping as we walked, having stood in the rain for nearly an hour, and I knew the maids would not be happy with us. I'll have to remember to leave them a large tip.

Dylan's grip on my hand tightened when his room came into view. It was a microscopic, inadvertent impulse, but it was there. I knew what he meant; I felt it too. A strange urge to keep holding on, for the night not to end, for our first date to keep going. We both knew it was over and it was time to say goodbye, but like children not wanting to leave a playdate, we wished for more time. Neither of us said anything though, because how could we be certain the other person felt the same?

"Sorry I almost killed you tonight," I smiled when we stopped in front of his door. Dylan let go of my hand, sliding his key into the lock. He turned the knob and cracked the door open slightly, putting his foot in the door so it wouldn't close again.

"Nah, it's okay. I had fun," Dylan said with a shy smile. "Sorry I forced you to get wet."

"I think it might've been worth it," I said, biting my lip.

Dylan looked shyly down at the floor. This was the persona I had expected him to be all night; embarrassed, bashful even. He wasn't though. He was relaxed and calm and Dylan and I loved it. Not that I wasn't enjoying shy Dylan now.

A sudden thought struck me. "Did you and Kaya fight?"

The smile on Dylan's lips faded a bit. He looked back up, clearing his throat to say, "Yeah--uh, I wasn't too happy she told you about my--um feelings..."

"Well, I could understand that," I frowned. "But," I added after a second, thinking about how upset she seemed earlier, "she probably didn't mean to hurt you. I'm guessing she just wanted to help us."

Dylan sighed, pursing his lips. "I know," he muttered, almost with regret.

"Look," I said, shifting slightly. "It's really up to you, but--I mean, I'm sure she had good intentions, even if she went about it wrong. Kaya really cares about you. Maybe you should talk to her."

Dylan looked over my shoulder down the hallway, as if searching for Kaya now. "Yeah, I will."

I smiled again. I knew Dylan would forgive her; that's just the type of loving person he is--he forgives.

I just hope he will forgive me too.

"Well, thanks. I had fun tonight," Dylan suddenly spoke, forming his lips into a thin, shy line as he met my eyes again.

"The pleasure was all mine," I replied softly.

Dylan made no move to go into his room. He looked at me, his expression unreadable.

"Well, bye," he all but whispered. He smile was soft, the same type of caring smile I had seen while we danced in the rain. My eyes fell to his prominent little dimple.

And then suddenly, without thinking, I moved forward and kissed him on the cheek.

Dylan looked shocked, but his surprise was nothing compared to mine. I had moved without thinking, my lips brushing the dimple of his cheek with overwhelming sincerity. I pulled back, gulped nervously, and smiled.

I bid him goodbye and left, still not quite understanding what had made me move in the first place.

__________________________________________________________________________________

That night, as I was preparing myself for bed, my heart kept jumping to my throat. My mind seemed set on reliving every single moment of our date, and I wasn't objecting. This was great news for my bet. The best news.

And the kiss--and Dylan's reaction, well that was just great for the bet too. He didn't push me away or hate me, so I knew for certain that his feelings were real. I smiled at the thought.

But as I fell asleep, something told me that the bet had nothing to do with the small smile still resting on my face. It certainly had nothing to do with the way my lips still tingled either.

//

A/N

im gonna brag for a second bc Im proud of myself but I refuse to say a word about it irl so guess who's currently valedictorian of her class :)) okay Im done sorry for that

I recommend Fifties by LavenderSangster because it just makes me die of feels and I am seriously in love. the characters are some of the truest and best ones I've ever read in a fanfic so you should check that out

also I'm sorry but I'm trash so I'm gonna promo myself for a second sorry babes um so like I wrote another oneshot in my oneshot book that I'm lowkey vv proud of and I spent like two weeks on, you can skip the other two honestly but Remember is what it's called yeah thanks cool sorry I'm trash

um I had a joke about amnesia but now I can't remember it :\

I hope you all are thriving and succeeding and following your dreams, but you know what fuck that do whatever you want. you are beautiful and have the right to live however you please

also pLEASE i need encouragements to brush my teeth I never do it because Im lazy hElp

until next time,

//sam\\