Fall of Rome

When we got back to the resort, Dylan and I agreed to order room service so we wouldn’t have to worry about bundling back up to find food. I was perfectly okay with that, because I was excited to sit in with Dylan and relax like it was old times, even though things were so much different.

Our food arrived in a rather timely fashion, and Dylan and I sat on the floor right next to the fireplace, eating our meals in our laps.

“Do you remember that time you tried to cook me dinner?” I asked, as I ripped apart a piece of my bread. “It was my first time visiting your new place in LA. You insisted you had everything figured out, and then you burnt the chicken so badly it was unrecognizable.”

Dylan glared at me, a small smirk playing on his lips as he raised his eyebrows. “Do you remember the time you tried to cook me dinner?”

“And it was wonderful,” I finished for him.

He shook his head, letting out a loud laugh. “It was far from wonderful. You added so many spices I thought my throat was gonna go raw.”

“You said you liked it! ‘Best meal ever’ I remember you saying.”

“I was trying to make you feel better,” he argued, giving me that playful smile he knew I couldn’t resist. “I wanted to make sure you’d cook for me every time you came to visit. You just looked so cute in the kitchen with your hair falling in your face and your cheeks all red. I didn’t want you to stop because of one lousy meal.”

Every word Dylan said made me long to have him even more. I couldn’t help but remember all the perfect, wonderful memories we had shared before, and it was impossible for me not to notice that he still seemed to be the same Dylan that he was. He was still the same person that I loved – sweet, charming and perfectly handsome – but he’d made a mistake. A very big one that was hard to ignore.

“What was she like?” I asked, unable to get the question out of my head.

Dylan’s eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“The other girl,” I continued, though he should have known what I meant. “What was she like?”

“What?” He repeated before he let out a long breath. “El, she was just a big mistake. I don’t even want to think about her.”

“Please, Dylan. I have to know.”

“Why would you want to know that?” He asked, looking more confused than ever. He had his lips pursed out, while his eyes were scrunched up.

“I just –” I stopped, tumbling over my words a bit. “I just think it’ll help.”

Dylan looked as though he didn’t believe me or like he was questioning how that could ever make me feel better, but he nodded his head.

“She was nothing special, really. I was at a party at Tyler’s place, drunk off my ass – I honestly don’t think I’ve ever been that drunk in my life, not even at graduation – and she kept hitting on me. I don’t even remember taking her upstairs, but I woke up the next morning in Tyler’s bed and we were both naked. I don’t remember a second of it, except for that.” He paused, taking in a deep breath. “I don’t know if it helps or makes things worse, but I don’t even know her name.”

The room was dead silent aside from the cackle of the fire in front of us, and I felt like I couldn’t move even if I wanted to. I wasn’t sure if Dylan’s story was supposed to make me feel better or worse, but it just made me feel numb. Hearing how it had happened, even as vague and short as it was, somehow made it more real.

I didn’t know what to do or say, but I did know that I felt like complete shit. It didn’t seem fair that another girl had a taste of what was supposed to be mine. I had never been good with sharing, and that was the absolute worst form of it.

“Eleanor,” Dylan breathed out, before scooting towards me and pulling me into his chest. I should’ve pulled away from him, but somehow having him next to me made me feel light years better. It was like the closer I could get to him, the more mine he would be, and I just wanted to make him mine again.

“El, I’m so sorry for what I did. I’d take it back if I could, but since there’s no way I can do that, I’m just going to promise that it’ll never happen again. I swear it, El. I’ll never, ever do anything to hurt you ever again.”

Dylan’s fingers were running through my hair right down my spine and all I wanted was to drag him closer to me. I wanted to be as close to him as possible. To have him be mine again. To show him that I was better than that girl could ever be. It was the most desperate feeling I had felt in my entire life, and the only way I thought I could get rid of it was to be with Dylan again.

“Have sex with me,” I said quickly, so quickly that my words were jumbled together and almost
impossible to decipher. Dylan looked at me with wide eyes, his left lip curled up.

“What?”

“Have sex with me.”

“No, El, I heard you,” he said, shaking his head. “I mean what are you talking about?”

“I want you to have sex with me,” I breathed out, reaching my hand down for his and wrapping our fingers together. Dylan looked from my eyes to our hands and back up again.

“You know I can’t do that, El.”

“Why not?” I nearly shouted, my voice quivering as I spoke. Dylan’s hands grasped onto mine tighter, while his eyes looked into mine.

“It’s not what you want, El. You and I both know that.”

“How could you possibly know what I want?”

Dylan shook his head, taking my hands and placing them on his chest. “El, just stop and listen to me.”
He paused, as though I was going to stop him, but when I didn’t, he continued.

“I love you, Eleanor. I love you so much. If I could make my perfect girl, it’d be you, El. There’s no one in the world I would rather be with, and nothing could ever change that. I can’t even begin to imagine what you must be feeling right now, but I know this isn’t what you want. I didn’t fly halfway around the world to have sex with you on the floor of some hotel. I did all this to make you fall in with me, El. If we get home and this is still what you want, then that’s great. That’s perfect. That’s exactly what I hope for. But I don’t want you to this now because you’re feeling sad, or vulnerable, or because you think you need to do it make me happy. I want you to do it because you love me. Like you used to. Like the way I love you.”

When Dylan was done speaking, all I could do was cry. My head fell into his chest while tears poured down my cheeks in a seemingly endless stream. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me so close that I was in his lap, and we sat like that until it was impossible for me to cry anymore.

Dylan’s arms wrapped so easily around me, and he lifted me into the air like I weighed nothing. I was on my bed in seconds, and Dylan lifted up the covers so I could snuggle under him. I could tell from the look in his eyes that he was about to walk away to leave to do whatever he thought I needed to do, but I just wanted him to stay.

“Don’t leave,” I said softly, my lip trembling as I looked into his eyes. “I want you to stay. Just because I want you to stay.”

Dylan gave me a soft smile before nodding his head and tucking himself into the covers beside me. His eyes fell on mine again, and this time he was the one who looked nervous. “Would it be alright if I held you?”

I nodded my head quickly, smiling twice as wide as he was, and he immediately pulled me into his chest with one arm wrapped around my neck and the other holding onto my hand. His fingers wrapped around mine as his thumb rubbed across my skin.

“El, I don’t ever want you to think that I don’t want you… that way, because trust me, that’s not the case at all. I just – when we have sex again, I want it to be because you love me. I want it to mean something.”

A lump formed in my throat, and all I could do was nod my head because I knew if I tried to speak everything would come out all wrong. Even with everything that had happened between me and Dylan, I wanted to be able to forgive him, and that was becoming even more possible with every moment I spent with him.