summer

ten- interview

Dylan allowed himself to stay in sayers arms for as long as he could, comforted by his warm embrace. Once Sawyer had made the move to hold Dylan, he was like ice and simply melted into Sawyer's chest, sobbing like a baby.

"It's okay, you're okay," he'd cooed, stroking Dylan's hair as he cried and cried and cried. "Don't worry. I'm not mad. I understand."

"I hurt you," Dylan had cried, gripping Sawyer hard as though tethering him to reality. He was petrified at the thought that this wasn't real, that no one would ever hold him, that Sawyer wouldn't do this.

"You didn't mean to."

"But I knew. I knew I was being mean. I just couldn't stop."

"You were defending yourself. You were scared I'd hurt you."

"But you didn't."

"But I didn't," he'd repeated, pulling Dylan closer. "That's okay, though. I'm not mad. You're okay." Dylan had simply cried after that, too exhausted to speak.

After residing in his grasp for at least ten minutes, the tears had melted away and simply left an emptiness heavier than any sob he could've cried. Sawyer had kept petting his hair, occasionally telling him that it was okay, that he was okay.

      "Sawyer, I-" he started, but snapped his mouth shut. He was so nervous to say something to the only boy that had been willing to touch him in years, since his father left. "I don't deserve you," he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut and leaning into his chest. "But is it okay if I hold onto you a little longer?"

      "Of course it is," Sawyer softly replied, moving his other hand up Dylan's back to rest at the base of his neck. "You don't even have to ask."

>><<

Eventually, Dylan had pulled himself away from Sawyer and they'd both gone downstairs. Sawyer had now taken to trailing behind Dylan, as though he was going to explode at any second. It was nice, but got old fast.

       "Where's my mom?" He eventually asked, noticing the quiet in the house.

       "Didn't she tell you?" At the shake of Dylan's head, he continued. "She's on a work trip, she'll be back in three days," Sawyer said with a sad look.

Dylan tightly nodded, feeling his stomach fall. His mom hadn't even told him she was leaving. She hadn't even said goodbye- not even a wave. He didn't care, though. His mother had never cared for him and that was the way it was.

"Okay. Whatever."

"Yeah."

"So."

"So?"

      "Well, I mean, what are we supposed to do for the next three days? We have groceries and stuff, but I don't know, it's boring," Sawyer said.

      "I didn't realize you relied so heavily on my mom for entertainment," Dylan teased as Sawyer rolled his eyes.

      "Well, she's the only one who can make you leave the house," he pointed out with a half smile. "Why don't we invite some people over?"

      "Great idea, except I don't have any friends."

     "Well, I'm sure you have some people you talk to-"

      "I don't." Dylan stared down at his hands, worried Sawyer would see him differently.

You know I'm a mess, but you see something in me other people don't. Will that fade away if you realize how hated I really am?