Chapter 3

"So, how are things going?" asked Ellie.

"Well," he said, switching the phone to his other ear, "He's still in bed. Last night, he could not sleep. He wouldn't even go to the bedroom until one and was asleep at about three,"

"Aww, I'm sure he was just a bit uncomfortable,"

"Yeah, but I understand that, first he want me no where near him, then…he refused to be alone. He would come out every five seconds to make sure I was still in the living room. I was going crazy! Thank god he's asleep,"

As soon as he had said that, he heard a crash. He sighed, "Maybe I spoke too soon,"

She laughed, "Go check,"

He walked into the bedroom to find Marco on the floor, holding a few pieces of glass.

"I'm sorry," he immediately began apologizing as soon as he saw Dylan. "I just wanted to look at it, and then I don't know…I didn't mean to break the frame…" he hurriedly picked up the pieces until Dylan calmed him down.

"Marco," he put his hands on his shoulders.

Marco shut his eyes tightly, as if he was preparing himself to be hit.

"It's okay,"

He opened his eyes, "But…I…"

"Accidents happen,"

"It's okay?" he asked, disbelieving.

Dylan laughed. "You really need to learn how to relax,"

"I'm relaxed; I promise I am,"

Dylan nodded, "Here, I'll clean it up. Do you want to talk to Ellie? You like her, right?" He didn't mean to sound bitter on the last sentence, but it was starting to get on his nerves.

Marco slowly took the phone, "You really don't need my help?"

"I'm fine," he answered automatically.

Marco took his conversation into the kitchen. "Hi,"

"Marco, hello; how are you this morning?" she asked cautiously.

"I—I broke a picture," he stuttered.

She pitied him. "I'm sure it'll be fine,"

"He said it would be. Ellie?"

"Yes?"

"Tell me about me, Dylan, high school, everything,"

She sighed, "I can tell you a bit, but everything else you need to know is up to Dylan to tell you, alright?"

"Uh-huh,"

"Well, I became your best friend in…probably ninth grade. I had a…well, a huge crush on you,"

He laughed. "With you so far,"

Ellie went on, "Well, we had a sort of relationship, until you…well, together we found out you were gay, and I fake dated you until tenth grade. I figured I would do it until you were ready to tell the truth, but you were never ready. Finally, I broke up with you, forcing you to do what had to be done. That's basically it,"

Marco was still confused, "But…Dylan?"

"Ask him,"

Dylan came into the room and saw that Marco was still on the phone. He waited patiently until he hung up.

"I'm sorry. I really don't remember," Marco said sadly.

"Don't apologize," Ellie reminded, "You can't control it,"

"No! I—I just," Marco became frustrated with himself, "I want to remember. I want to have a life. I don't want to be told about it,"

"It's all blank?" she asked sympathetically.

"Thanks for trying, Ellie…bye," he hung up.

"Come sit by me," Dylan said calmly.

No longer entirely scared of Dylan's presence, Marco did as he was asked.

"Now," Dylan said softly, running his thumb along Marco's cheek, "I want you to tell me how you feel,"

Marco tried not to feel threatened by Dylan's close proximity. He actually felt sort of comfortable; like he was taken care of. It made him spill his feelings out.

"I feel scared; like everyone knows something I don't. I feel apprehensive because I keep finding out new information that, whether I like it or not, it's true. Most of all, I feel sorry because of how I'm making everyone sad,"

Dylan figured that, since Marco seemed to be okay with the closeness, he could get slightly closer.

He cautiously put his arm around him. Marco stiffened slightly, but allowed the intrusion of his space reluctantly.

"Yes, we're sad, honey…but it's not your fault," Dylan spoke as if he were talking to a child.

"Well, I feel pressured," Marco admitted.

Dylan moved further away. "I'm sorry if I'm pressuring you. Okay, here's what we'll do. If you feel uncomfortable, you tell me. If it's okay…well, it's okay. Does that sound good?"

Marco nodded, smiling for the first time since the accident, (at least, towards Dylan) "Thank you,"

"No problem," Again, he put his arm around Marco, bringing him closer. "Is this okay?"

Truly, Marco did feel okay now. When Dylan touched him slightly, he wasn't shocked as he was earlier on. He felt a sort of…guilty happiness when Dylan casually put his arm around him. He didn't know why it made him feel wrong, but it did. The only thinks for sure, though, was he felt safe. He wasn't scared of Dylan anymore, but he couldn't figure out why a huge part of him still wished he wasn't around him.

"Dylan?" he began cautiously.

"Mhmm?" he muttered.

"Can you tell me about us, please?"

Dylan cleared his throat. He stayed quiet for a long time. He didn't know where, exactly, he should start, even what to say at all.

"Alright, you're my boyfriend and I love you," There. No unhappy things. He didn't need to know about them.

"That's all you're going to tell me? Do we fight?"

"Yes…sometimes,"

"How long have we been together?"

"Well…that's hard to…explain. We had broken up for a while,"

"Why?"

"Marco, are you hungry? How about some breakfast?"

Though he really wasn't hungry and was still interested, he recognized the subject change meant he wasn't to ask again. However, his trust in Dylan was slightly fading if he couldn't answer his question. It unnerved him.

……………………………………………………………………………….

Dylan and Marco had come to an agreement on the sleeping arrangements. Since Marco had the bed the first night, the second night they'd switch and so on. So, it was Dylan's turn in the bedroom when he heard a no knock at his door. His first thought was that Marco was right beside him and that the knock was just his imagination. However, he remembered this was the not the case after he tried to pull Marco closer. He wasn't there.

He looked at the clock beside his bed, which read 2:00 a.m., and called for him to come in. Marco opened the door gently and, since Dylan couldn't see him, turned on the light. After Dylan's eyes adjusted to the light, he saw that Marco looked completely distressed.

"I—I—I'm sorry to bother you. It's stupid, really," But from the look on his face, it definitely was nothing trivial to him. He wiped the tears from his face.

"What's wrong?" Dylan had already forgotten that he was supposed to be tired at this time of morning. "Did something happen?"

"No," he assured, "I mean, I don't think so. I—I'm not really sure if it was happening, but…now I don't remember," he said quickly.

"Come here," he patted the bed. Marco definitely didn't need to be told twice.

He let Dylan pull him into a safe hug. "I—I had this dream; a really bad dream. It seemed so real, though. I know you're probably saying it's just a dream and I shouldn't get so upset, but…you don't realize how little I know…it could have been real. I wouldn't know. I don't mean to get so…" he paused, trying and failing to pretend he wasn't crying, "upset…"

"It's okay. It scared you," he sooth, rubbing Marco's back.

"Can I sleep with you tonight?" he asked hopefully.

Dylan chose to ignore any sexual thought that came to mind. "Do you trust me?"

He nodded, "At least, I trust you more than myself right now,"

Dylan smiled sympathetically, "Just lay down,"

Dylan rubbed his back, whispering that it would all be alright, until he fell asleep comfortably in his arms.