Fall of Rome

We had been dating for four years when the fall began, though I didn’t know it until was too late. That morning, Dylan had called me up with a one way ticket to his place in LA. It was the last thing I expected, even though my finals had just ended, because he had been so busy on the set of Teen Wolf recently.

The first thing I had asked was whether or not he’d be working the whole time I was there, because I hated when I flew down only to spend the time alone at his place while he was busy working. He did his best to get away from the set when he could, but it seemed like no matter how much time I had gotten with him, it was never enough.

When he promised he took off work, I couldn’t pack up my things fast enough, and I was at the airport much earlier than I needed to be. For some reason I hoped that if all the passengers got their early enough, we could be in LA sooner, but of course, that didn’t happen.

The flight to LA was exactly how I remembered it. If anything, it seemed a tad bit longer than usual, but I attributed it to the fact that I was getting anxious. When the flight was over, I was ready to jump up and run across the terminal to see Dylan, but I had to wait for the completely useless loading and unloading process. The worst part was waiting for all the parents to get their kids’ things together and get them off the plane, since the flight attendant insisted we leave in order by row.

But even all those screaming children couldn’t put a damper on my mood because I knew that as soon as I stepped off that plane I’d be able to see Dylan again, and that was only a few minutes away.

I was practically running through the airport to get to baggage claim so I could hurry up and get my suitcase. This time, I was fully prepared to plow down some mothers to beat them to the bag carousel, but luckily my running had served me well and I was the first one at the carousel. A few bags came down before I spotted the zebra print tag my mom had sewn to mine so I could tell it apart from all the rest.

I lugged my suitcase off the carousel so quickly I thought I almost knocked my shoulder out of socket, but it was still working well enough to drag my suitcase behind me while I attempted to walk to the place Dylan and I always met.

He had his back turned to me when I saw him, but I could’ve recognized the back of his head from a mile away, which I did. A smile crept up my face and I almost squealed when he turned around.

The second he saw me, he returned my smile only three times bigger and he took off in a full run in my direction. I didn’t know if security would tackle someone for running through an airport, but I didn’t care enough to tell him to stop or to keep from running myself.

I jogged forward, only making it a few steps before he had reached me. His arms went immediately to my waist, lifting me into the air before I even had a chance to think about what was happening. He spun me around, pulling me as close to his body as he could, and even when he was done spinning, he didn’t put me down. He held me as tightly as he could, squeezing me so hard I almost couldn’t breathe, but I didn’t have the heart or desire to tell him to stop.

“El,” he whispered as he put me down, only pulling his arms away so he could wrap them around my neck. My face pressed into his chest and I wrapped my arms around his waist. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you. It feels so good to finally see you again.”

Dylan nodded, pressing his face into my neck. “It’s been way too long.”

I didn’t ever want him to pull away from me, but I knew we couldn’t stay in the airport forever, and I had left my bags about three paces back and it was only a matter of time before security started checking for bombs.

“I’m parked right out front,” Dylan said, pulling away to look down at me. His eyes were still that same perfect chocolate color as they were when I left. “What do you say we head back to my place and get your things unpacked?”

He had just started renting a new apartment closer to the city, which he had just begun being able to afford when his show was announced for a second season. He still hadn’t bought an actual house yet, which I assumed was either because he wasn’t ready to make LA his permanent home or because he didn’t want to break it to me that it was going to be. Either way, I was happy with the place he had chosen, though I had only been able to stay a handful of weekends since he had begun renting it.

There was a decorator that came in to help him fix the place up and give it a more homey feel since he always complained about how it felt like he was living in someone else’s apartment, and I hadn’t seen it since the changes had been made, though he had showed a few of the things over webcam when it was first finished. I was just excited to see it in person for the first time.

Dylan had one hand on my bags and the other wrapped around mine the whole time we walked to his car and it felt like magic the way everyone was staring at us. He was just beginning to make a name for himself and it was to the point where people recognized him when they saw him on the street. Last time I came to visit, he got stopped for photos and autographs a few times, but that hadn’t happened yet. I was thankful though, because I didn’t want anything to take away from our time together, especially since I had just arrived.

When we got to his car, Dylan threw my bags in the trunk while I started it up and turned on the air conditioning. It was hot back home, but nothing like LA. The sun was like Satan punishing all the celebrities for the drugs they were doing and the hookers they were sleeping with. The rest of us were just caught in the crossfire.

“What do you want to listen to?” Dylan asked first thing when he hopped in, his hand fiddling with the knob on the radio before he began backing up.

“Same thing we always do,” I said, smiling at him as I folded my hands in my lap.

He smiled back at me before reaching over and pulling a CD out of the glove compartment that had my name written in red sharpie. It was a collection of songs we listened to when we first started dating and it was what was playing in his car the majority of the time when I visited. After spending so much time apart, I couldn’t help but be a little nostalgic when I finally did get to see him, but he was so used to that by now it was practically a part of my personality.

The whole ride back to his place, I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off of him. He had those perfect cheek bones that were always the cutest shade of red, and every time he looked back at me, he smiled. I had missed him so much when we were apart, and I didn’t plan on taking my eyes off him until I was back on the plane to New Jersey.