Again

Chapter 8

Dylan’s POV

 

The driver sensed that we were tense so he left abruptly after parking the car. Tristan tried to follow but I locked the doors. Seeing Tristan’s quiet expression from the rear mirror, I must’ve done something wrong again.

 

Should I not have introduced myself to his mother? Thinking back, my introduction must’ve been too strong. While I meant no harm, Tristan must’ve thought otherwise.

 

“Starting tomorrow, I won’t bother you anymore. My actions seem to put you always on the defence so I’ll keep my distance. You’ll only see me coincidentally or not at all.” He stays silent. “My father will deal with yours after my- his money’s duration comes up; he already knows about your situation. Rest assured, you can stay here for as long as you like but I won’t bother you one bit. As for Aun- your mother, you can say I was joking about what I said. She’s a lovely woman and I know she’ll understand-” 

 

Our eyes meet; I look away.

 

“T-That’s not… it.”

 

Oh. 

 

“Y-You said you w-wanted to be m-my… f-friend. I-I was s-surprised, t-that’s all.”

 

I look back at him. “And I mean it. I really want to be your friend.”

 

Tristan looks down. Oh, my abrupt eye contact was too much for him; I face the front again. 

 

“I hope my sincerity reaches you, Tristan.” I show him my pinky finger; it’s the same as what I swore his sister with. With my eyes shut close, I hoped that he'd intertwine it with his.

 

A few more moments later, I feel his pinky with mine. I smile.

 

“See you at dinner?”

 

He slightly nods. “Y-Yes. See you.”

 

He leaves his bedroom door slightly open so I did the same. I go straight to bed and reminisce about today’s events. Today was exhausting. I met his mother and younger sister— totally unexpected. And now I know where Tristan got his genes; Auntie is very pretty. 

 

I can’t believe I beat a person with such a face. If he didn’t meet us or was financially successful to begin with, he’d be a catch for the entertainment industry. 

 

I really f*cked up before. Sh*t.

 

Exhausted, I turn on the a.c and close my eyes.

 

Knock knock knock

 

Hmm…

 

“D-Dylan?”

 

My eyes jolt open. That’s Tristan’s voice. I swiftly open the door, startling him. Sh*t. “S-Sorry, I just woke up,” I cover my mouth, I bet my breath stinks. “What’s up?”

 

“D-Dinner.”

 

It’s dinner time already? I was that exhausted? “Okay. I’ll be down in a minute.” Gotta freshen up first.

 

He nods and leaves.

 

I rush to my bathroom and wash my face. And in the middle of it, I realize something— Tristan came to me first! Holy sh*t. 

 

Once done, I run down the stairs and see him in the kitchen. Where’s the staff?

 

“Tristan,” I called to get his attention and he flinched. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you. Where’s the staff?”

 

“I-I don’t—”

 

“Father didn’t hire any for the time being.”

 

I jolt. Since when did he get here?

 

I look back at my brother who’s taking off his work clothes. “Brother, you’re not a ninja so stop with the sudden appearances,” I groan.

 

“It’s because you’re not looking. Tristan saw me a while back.”

 

Still. I sigh. It’s better to not bicker with him and simply eat what Tristan cooked.… Wait. “You cooked? All of this?” I eye the table.

 

Tristan nods. “T-There were ingredients so…”

 

It looks like a feast! The table has very colourful meals, it’s very appetizing to look at. 

 

“Looks yummy…” My stomach growls; my brother evidently snorts. “Shut up, Brother.”

 

“Is there any share for me?”

 

“Y-Ye—”

 

“NONE. Go order some take-out or something,” I shoo him away. 

 

Brother puts his hand on Tristan’s shoulder. “How mean! Chef Tristan made more than you can eat! Do you want to get fat?” He cringes.

 

“Then I’ll eat all of them! You didn’t tell no one you’re going home so it’s for ME!” I emphasize ME. And f*ck, get your hand off! 

 

He eyes me. “As if you eat vegetables! You barely eat potatoes! Eat all of them, my ass!”

 

“Unlike you! All you know is eat a woman’s puss— you slu— cassanova!” I look back at him.

 

Tristan stumbles.

 

We stopped. Tristan bows down.

 

I squat down. “W-What’s wrong? Did we surprise you? We’re not really fighting, right, Brother?”

 

“Y-Yeah. Sibling fight, that’s what they call it. Forgive us? I’ll make you a hot chocolate.”

 

I cringe at my brother. Seriously? You’ll calm him down with hot chocolate? I bet you’ll put sleeping drugs in it again.

 

“N-No. I-I’m just…”

 

Something’s wrong. His eyes are unfocused!

 

“Tristan?”

 

“... dizzy.”

 

“Woah!” Tristan faints and we catched him immediately. 



#7460 en Otros
#2202 en Relatos cortos
#12855 en Novela romántica

En el texto hay: regresiones, gay bl, school bullying

Editado: 10.06.2024

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