I had my first physiotherapy appointment later that day, and despite my mum's concerns, it seemed as though it may only take me a short while to get back up and running again. After all, the stab wound was to my chest, meaning that my limbs were fine; it just hurt to stretch sometimes.

I was back in my bed now, per my mum's instruction, and she promised me that my dinner would be coming soon.

"And so there were loads of letters, flowers, comments on your friends' Instagram for you. You should have seen them all, Olivia." My mum laughed, trying to catch me up on what I had missed.

In reality, I had only missed a month, which made it October 25th. But in my head, I had lost over half a year. I felt so out of tune and out of practice; it was as though I was discovering how to be myself again.

"Can't I still see them now?" I asked her, focusing on whatever she was rambling about at that moment.

She grimaced, pursing her lips, "I guess, just not yet, Livvy."

I sighed into my cushions—which were not as comfy as they sound. Suddenly, someone rapped at the door.

"Ah," my mum announced, "that must be your food." I frowned, glancing between my mum and the door.

She stood up, opening the door and saying, "Shaun." After a polite nod of her head, she smiled over at me before slipping out of the door. I frowned after her until I spotted who was at the door. My dad.

My dad closed the door behind him as I jolted upwards, exclaiming, "Dad!"

He laughed, setting a tray down on the table over my bed before pressing a kiss to my forehead. "Hi, Greeny." Greeny was nothing but a mocking nickname; something from my childhood that my dad liked to make fun of me for.

I beamed up at him as he took his seat, passing me some cutlery. I pushed myself up slightly before digging in.

"Aren't you going to eat something?" I asked him, halfway through my lasagna.

He smiled, shaking his head, "I already ate, Liv."

I nodded, continuing to eat, though frowned over at my dad as he fell into silence.

I groaned. "You've got that same look," I complained, wiping at my mouth with a napkin.

He rose an eyebrow, "What look?"

"The one that mum keeps giving me. The one that's as if her daughter has just turned to gold dust and will earn her millions." I described, making my dad laugh.

"Well, that would be nice too," After I threw him a sharp look, he continued, "you almost died, Olivia, I think we get the right to be a little emotional." He explained.

It was then my turn to fall quiet. "Mum said that there was loads of support for me whilst I was in the coma—what were you guys doing whilst I was...asleep?"

He smiled sorrowfully, "Crying, mostly," the look behind his eyes broke me. I realised then how deep the bags beneath his eyes were, and how much more stubble he had on his face than I had realised when I had first seen him. "We were so worried, Liv, so, so worried,"

I smiled, tears in my eyes, "I'm here now," I whispered, making him smile too.

He laughed, "Yes, yes you are. We were all practically dancing when we found out; you don't understand, Liv." I mirrored his grin, though soon wavered.

"'All'? I asked, "I presumed that it would only be you and mum?"

My dad furrowed his eyebrows, shaking his head, "Many people came to visit you, Olivia—your friends, your aunts and uncles, even Nanny Greta." I giggled. Nanny Greta was...something—out of her wits, really.

"My friends?" I echoed, watching my dad smile in response.

"Yes," he confirmed, "but there was one...someone who felt the need to stay here even overnight at times. He never left, Olivia."

I stared, swallowing, "What?" I asked almost inaudibly. I think I knew who he was talking about, what he was hinting at before he even told me.

My dad nodded, "Yes, Dylan was almost more worried than we were at times."

My heart leapt, "Dylan..?" I had to make sure.

"Yes," he replied, grinning, "did you doubt that he would be here?"

I glanced away, speechless for a few seconds. "Is he still here?" I murmured, looking back up.

My dad nodded, "Of course, he rarely left at all."

I stared down at my food, though was suddenly miles away, thinking about Dylan.

"Anyway," My dad announced, standing up, "you finish your dinner, Greeny, then maybe open those presents before the nurses throw them away," I frowned over at him, though didn't have a chance to respond before he ruffled my hair and left.

When the door opened again, I was staring at the pile of letters and presents beside me, with an array of differently coloured balloons hovering below the ceiling.

"Ah," Someone said, "your presents," I turned to see my mum sitting beside me. "Do you want to open them? There should be one from Dylan somewhere..." she said, rifling through them and frowning when she couldn't find what she was searching for.

"Mum?"

"Yes, darling," She replied absentmindedly, still sifting through the various boxes and bags.

"Is Dylan here right now?" I asked. She suddenly stopped moving. "That's what dad said—is it true?"

She sighed, "Your dad shouldn't have told you that." She said, turning around.

"Why?" I frowned, "There's nothing wrong with him being here...with me seeing him."

"I know," My mum replied quickly, taking her seat beside me as she thought about what to say next, "I just think that maybe it's something we can tackle later; it's getting late now."

"But I want to see him, mum, I want to see Dylan and I want him to stop worrying about me," I said, hearing the potent sound of urgency in my voice.

My mum smiled sadly, just as my dad had earlier, "I don't think he'll ever stop worrying about you, Olivia."

I sighed, playing with my lasagna as I thought. I took a few bites before settling the cutlery back down. "Please, mum?" I asked, trying again, "There's no real reason why I can't, you're just worrying again."

My mum stared at my unwavering face for a few minutes before groaning. "Fine," she said, "but you should probably brush your hair first, and put on this cardigan on; it's cold out in the corridor. Did you wash earlier when I left you?"

I rolled my eyes at her overpowering concern. "Yes, mum, and if you want me to brush my hair then I'll need a brush."

Hair immaculate, cardigan wrapped around me and slippers on, I was ready to go. My mum walked with me, and she tapped my shoulder when she noticed him. I followed her gaze down a corridor, where Dylan was pacing, clearly talking on the phone with someone. We waited for Dylan to end the call, and then I silently persuaded my mum to leave. Once she was gone, I took several deep breaths before gingerly rounding the corner.

Dylan was not facing me, and he couldn't hear my footsteps. Seeing him again was almost like a dream, a vision; it was too unbelievable. I still couldn't fathom that I was Olivia Clark again—or alive, for that matter.

His hair was dishevelled, and I could see faint under-eye bags from where I stood. His outfit was admittedly not the best piece that he's drawn together, but despite it all, he was gorgeous—as Dylan had always been.

Getting closer, I told myself to say his name but suddenly forgot how to. Swallowing and asserting myself, I allowed my lips to move.

"Dylan?"

He looked up at those two syllables, eyes frantically scanning for something—he was looking for me.

When he saw me, his face glowed, and his eyes glimmered under the light. Tears. He had tears in his eyes.

"Olivia." He responded, suddenly breathless. I continued to walk over to him, though too slowly to be moving at all.

As I moved, I thought about what I wanted to do, and what I wanted to say. Looking at him now, just as I had concluded through Alessia's eyes, it was so clear. Dylan likes me. He really likes me.

With that in mind, I didn't need to plan what to do next; I just knew. Reaching him, I placed my palms to either side of his face, checking for any signs of rejection on his face before I pressed my lips to his.

Slowly, but surely, his hands came up to my face too, fingers knotting into my hair as he drew me in closer.

It began cautiously, as though I was testing him—but when he kissed back, I could feel it. I could taste his desperation and love as much as I think he could taste mine.

Kissing Dylan was much alike to simply being with Dylan—but intensified. I felt safe, comfortable and ignited all at once. Pulling away, I saw that he felt a similar way.

He pressed his forehead against mine, holding it there with his fingers still buried in my hair.

"I've wanted to do that for ages," he whispered.

I smiled, "Why didn't you?" I asked, whispering too.

"I was so scared, Olivia. I thought maybe you wouldn't feel the same, that it would ruin our friendship." He said, suddenly exposing himself and ripping off the pretence.

My smile widened. "I do feel the same."

He sighed into me, pulling away from my forehead but then drawing me into a hug. I melted into him, savouring his embrace after so long.

"I missed you so much," he murmured, tightening his hold on me.

I felt as tears spilt from my eyes, and felt a similar wetness against my neck; Dylan was crying too.

"I missed you too," I whispered in return. It was then my turn to pull away, but his to kiss me.

And he did—he did kiss me. And it was everything I never knew I had wanted.

Until now.

_________________________________

this is like my favourite chapter ever 😭😭

I SHIP THEM SO MUCH

I can't be the only one, right ??

Dylivia
Olan

Olan looool

That one is defo the best

Or Olian

anyway

dedicated shipper

also this chapter is so so long

but it's my fave. ever

also the book is ending very, very soon 😭😭

-crycrycrycrycrycrycrycrycrycrycrycry

FABULOUS SONGS

Songs that played when I was writing this chapter (in order):
Salvation - Scanners
Stay - Gabrielle Aplin
Let Me Down Gently - La Roux
Wonder - Lauren Aquilina
This Love - Ellie Goulding
The Other Side - Ruelle
Set Fire to the Rain - Adele
I'll Hold My Breath - Ellie Goulding
Mended - Vera Blue
I Remember - Evan Duffy
Sinners - Lauren Aquilina

END OF FABULOUS SONGS

Date written:
16/10/18

__________
Next update: Saturday
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CHAPTER FORTY-NINE SPOILER:

There are two life lessons to take away from this:

there are always consequences

and life isn't fair.

🕊

CHAPTER COUNT UNTIL THE END OF THE BOOK:
two & epilogue