2.6 | Forget Me Not ✓

+2 || dianthus caryophyllus

A/N

You guys! Right now, I'm writing the final chapter of this story, and you know what that means? This story will never go on hiatus because I'm almost done! I've really enjoyed writing this one—I think it's my favourite of Universe #2 yet, so I hope you'll like it.

Anyway, if you've answered my question in the previous chapter, you'll notice that I've left some small hints as to what I'll be working on next. Kudos to you if you can guess it, but if you can't, you'll know eventually!

Out of curiosity, have any of you read the original five books of this universe? By that, I mean No Sparks Required (or Had To Be You), The Cinderella Deception, Bringing Back Brielle, Here To Stay and 99% Irresistible (or It Takes Two). They were actually written way back when in 2010-2013, and were basically my teenfic years. Let me know if you have, and which one of these was your favourite!

And happy reading!

x Noelle

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+ 2

d i a n t h u s c a r y o p h y l l u s

For affection.

(now: +2)

SHE STIRS AWAKE at the sound of someone calling her name. At first, a surge of hope rises within her and she thinks that it's Dylan calling her. But—no, the voice is decidedly feminine, and when she lifts her head, it's Dylan's mom who's peering down at her in concern.

"Emma, honey," she says in a soft voice. "Why don't you and Morgan get some sleep in the waiting room? Dylan's dad and I will keep him company."

She straightens and looks around the room. It's been a long day, and his family looks just as tired as she feels. In between talking to the doctors and helping with police investigations, it seems that none of them has gotten any proper rest.

So far, it's a dead end: there are no traffic cameras along that part of the road, nor can the police identify where the note came from. They aren't ruling out the possibility that the note could be entirely unrelated to the accident either.

That just makes Emma all the more unsettled and reluctant to leave his side. "No, thank you," she tells his mom. "I'm not going anywhere until he wakes up."

"There's no telling when he'll wake up," Morgan points out. "The doctors say it could be anytime between minutes to days, and he really does like to sleep. Once, during summer break, he even slept for three days straight."

"Morgan." Mrs Torres shakes her head reprovingly, before offering Emma a small smile. "He'll wake up. I'm just worried that you'll fall sick by the time he does, and then he'll never let us hear the end of it for not taking good care of you."

"She's right," Mr Torres says. "At least take a walk for a bit. Stretch your legs. Don't stay holed up in here."

She looks down at Dylan for a long moment. His face, usually tanned but pale now, and matted hair. Her fingers twitch by her sides, yearning to brush his hair out of his eyes. Why didn't she do that earlier? He's lying so terribly still that she wonders if he's even breathing. Even before, she'd pressed her palm to his heart just to make sure she could still feel him.

Wake up, she wills him. Please wake up.

But he doesn't, and she's left with the bitter tang of disappointment once again. "Okay," she says quietly. "I'll go get something to eat."

"Take Morgan with you," says Dylan's dad. "Someone needs to keep an eye on our resident troublemaker."

Morgan makes a face and grumbles under her breath, but Emma knows what he really means: he wants Morgan to make sure she's okay. She offers Dylan's parents a faint smile and gets up, heading for the door with Morgan.

A faint rustle stops her in her tracks. Then Mrs Torres's voice, with a slight edge to it—"Dylan, honey? Frank, he's waking up, get the nurse just in case."

Emma whirls around; her heart in her throat. He's awake. She rushes back to his side; a brilliant smile spreading across her face. She can't remember the last time she felt this relieved.

"Hey," she breathes.

He blinks, once or twice, and gazes around the room with a slightly dazed look on his face. His eyes finally latch onto someone—but it's not her. "Hey, monkey," he rasps at last.

Morgan smirks and settles down on the edge of his bed. "Hey yourself. You scared the hell out of us, you know?"

His lips twitch up in a fraction of a smile, before his gaze lands on Emma. He blinks, then turns to the other side where his mum is. "Hi, mum."

"Dylan, thank God," his mum says, patting his cheek. "We were so worried when the hospital called."

"What—what happened?"

"Car accident," Morgan says briskly. "Police are still investigating."

His eyes widen. "Did I hit someone?"

Emma almost smiles at that. It's just like him to worry that he was the culprit instead of the victim. But before Morgan can reply, his dad comes bustling into the room. "Doctor is on her way," he says, stopping by the other side of Dylan's bed. "How're you feeling, son?"

"Not too good," Dylan admits, with a cough. Emma quickly pours him a glass of water and holds it to his lips. After a cursory glance her way, he reaches for it and takes a small sip.

She frowns. Something is wrong.

"As long as you're awake," his dad continues. "Emma was really worried about you, you know? She hasn't left your side all day."

Dylan stares at his parents, then at his sister standing by the foot of his bed. He hands Emma back the glass with a polite nod, the way a patient would to a nurse, and that's when she realizes that something is very, very wrong. And, with a sinking sense of dread, she knows full well the words that will leave his mouth as soon as he says them.

"Who's Emma?"