Dylan's POV.

I cannot believe I'm about to tell her this. I mean, I've told John, Halem, and he most probably, no, definitely told his wife, yet I never imagined telling Quinn until much later. But she's stubborn. And I guess I like that about her.

My hands are shaking, I didn't want to remember this today. I didn't want to recollect the horrible memories of her. And then tell them to Quinn. She'll most probably leave me for all my problems.

"My mother, she um- abused me, all my life." I cleared my throat, memories of all the painful bashes, hits, bruises, wounds, flashing through my damaged mind.

I looked up at Quinn to see she was in deep thought. I could tell she was listening, but her brows were furrowed, as if telling me to continue further.

A thing I loved is that she wasn't giving the sympathetic look I saw when I told the few people this. She gave me the look the encouraged me enough to go on.

"When I was 16, or maybe 15, I don't really remember, I told my mum that I had to go to the post office to grab a parcel." I breathe heavily. "I never went back. I secretly packed a suitcase with some of my belongings, my books, clothes, a little bit of money and ran off. I didn't know where, I just wanted to get away from her." I shiver, remembering that tough time in my life where I had no one to turn to, not even a house to call home.

"I did things I didn't want to do. I've stolen, and I still have a little bit of money I still have to pay back. I've gotten involved with the wrong group of people, and I was an addict too. But, I promise, I'm sober now. I've never drunk alcohol since I met Halem. And I was to keep my sobriety that way."

I kept my head down, scared to look at Quinns face, for if I did, I thought I would see her disgusted.

"Dylan-" she started to say, but I continued.

"I lived off of small jobs ever since I was 16. I...lived on the streets, couldn't afford an apartment. Plus, if I had stayed at an apartment, my mother could've found me. I know because she found me when I first tried running away. That was when I was 14. It's a long story.

"Anyways, I ended up reaching Morocco. I'm from and lived in Melbourne, by the way. That was where Halem worked and I met him when a 'friend' of mine, signed me up for some odd jobs.
It was very hard to get into it because the job was a bit of a secret. I never knew why.

He and I grew close. He treated me as if I were his own." I managed to smile, thinking about the kindness Halem had showed me when I needed it most.

"But my dreadful mother went there. After months of thinking I was finally free from her, I saw her 'working'. When I walked in the tent and told Halem that I'd seen her, I was completely, genuinely scared for my life. But Halem didn't believe me. I was so exasperated.

When I wouldn't talk to him, and would get panic attacks when she was near, he..believed me. He didn't tell me, but I saw it in his eyes that he believed me.

He was the one who found the bomb, minutes before it exploded, too. It was near my tent. If I had been there, I would've died." I gulp, thinking about the what-couldve-been. I was a dead man then.

"There was a little tremor, obviously because, well it was a fucking bomb, and so many people died, Quinn. People died because of my fucking mother.

"The tremor, hence, explains my nose," I continue, pointing to the scar across my nose that Quinn didn't seem to comment on, at all, I realized. Why?

"And Halems leg. Only ten people survived." I inhale deeply, the fresh scent of a flower shop nearby filling my nostrils.

I kept my head down, I still didn't want to see her face. She's probably so disgusted with me.

I suddenly feel her hands softly hold my face. They're cold, but I don't mind. They pull me up so  I look at her.

"Dylan." She says, and I can see the wetness in her eyes. Her emerald eyes, glossed.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you this before." My mouth turns into my frown and my voice cracked.

She bit her lip and her mouth turned to a half frown, likewise to mine.

Quinn inched closer to me, wrapped her hands around my neck and enclosed our bodies in a hug. But it more than just a physical hug. It was emotional, too.

"I'm..im so so sorry, Dylan. No one should've had to go through all that shit you went through." She says, now weeping, and hugging me tighter.

It felt like we were like that for hours, just the both of us in the world, until she pulled away.

Her hands went back to my flushed cheeks and she whispered into my ear, "I'm sorry, Dylan. I'm glad you shared this with me. I could tell you were uncomfortable with it. I'm sorry I pushed you. I shouldn't have done that. Do... do you want to talk more about it?" She asks me, as I wipe the streaks of water left on her face with the palm of my thumb.

"Not really. I've told you everything. And you didn't push me. Well, you kind of did," She laughs to this small remark, causing me to grin.

"But I'm glad you did. Otherwise I wouldn't have told you until much later. Are you totally disgusted with me now? And I could totally understand if you leave me because of all the hideous-"

"Of course not!" She breaks me off. "You had no choice! You were only 16! And I will never judge you like that, remember that, Dylan." She says, taking my hand from her face and keeping it on her lap.

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Quinn's POV.

I could see the demons in his eyes fade away the more he neared the end of his appalling tale. What happened to him was undisputedly dreadful. I was in utter incredulity, that underneath all that.. love, he'd shown me, there was a person who had battled demons, lived in unspeakable situations and was forced to do heinous acts, and all under dire circumstances.

I knew that he had little succor during these hard times, as he still needed solace. I can see it in his eyes. They're so easy to read.

And I want to be the one to give him reassurance, that things would be alright. That he was no longer in jeopardy of his mother.

His mother.. what a ghastly woman. There aren't even words for the unthinkable things she's done. And for what intentions?

"Dylan, but why would she do this?" I questioned. I didn't want to overwhelm him with questions, but my curiosity got the best of me, as usual.

"I honestly don't know. I reckon it's because I take after my father in most things. Especially looks. And their divorce was absolutely hellish. My parents loathed each other by the end of it. You see, my mother and father are both bludgers, and they both were drowning in electricity bills, water bills, name all the bills that you know, they were in debt of. And they kept fighting and fighting because of this, and eventually they divorced when I was 12."

"Oh my goodness." I say, trying not to cry again. "Dylan, I'm so sorry!" I wrap my arms around him, never wanting to let go.

I was never good at reassuring people, telling them what they wanted to hear. But I want to try, for Dylan.

"Stop apologizing so much!" Dylan chuckles and his warm hands cover my face. "It's not your fault."

"Does John know?" I ask, but I'm pretty sure I knew the answer.

"Yeah. Halem sent John a letter. It was so hard to send it, too! The public wasn't very involved with the dig."

"Oh." I reply, and look down at my lap, where Dylans hand was resting.

His fingers slowly draw circles on my thigh, giving a very therapeutic massage. "I don't even know what to say. This is so horrible." I sigh.

"Yeah." He says. "Want to lighten the mood and go get John and Angelica? It's almost 3pm now." Dylan says, grabbing his phone from his pocket.

I nod, and reach for my purse. I take out my hair clip and put it in between my teeth.

"Sure." I answer him. Then I grab my shoulder length hair, and twirl it tightly, lifting it up to my head, and clipped it together with my clip. It looked messy, but it kept the hair out of my face.

It was when I finished, that I noticed Dylan was staring at me, mesmerized by what I did. "What?" I laughed.

"Okay, that was seriously cool. You've got to teach me that." He says, still keeping a straight face, but I could tell he was holding back his laughter.

"Sure, let's go buy you a clip then, if you fancy this mess!" I responded, giggling at the thought of his hair tied up.

"I fancy you." He says, causing my cheeks to redden, and he laughs!

"You're always blushing, it's so adorable. I'm going to call scarlet."

"Why?" I mumble.

He leans in to my ear. "Because, your cheeks are always in a scarlet color when you're with me."

I puff out my cheeks and use my hands to cover them.

"Plus, it's far too gross to call someone babe." He clarifies.

I'm so shocked. This is the way I felt about the word too. I found it cringy when someone first called me that. I mean, my girlfriends call me that all the time, and that's totally okay but when it's called in a romantic way? Oh hell no.

"I feel that way too! We have more in common than I thought." I whisper, his lips, inches from mine.

"Can I get that kiss now? And, to be clear, that wasn't the reason why I told you, I really am glad I let it out to you." He says.

"Haha sureeeeee!" I roll my eyes, giggling.

He smirks, the oh so charming smirk that is making me fall head over heels for him.

He kisses me. Softly, but then our lips took on a faster pace, our tongues are dancing to the same rhythm. He's really good. Maybe because hes done this before a lot. Has he?

I shouldn't be thinking about this.

His hands move to my waist and he pulls me closer to him.

My permanent residents, the butterflies, are going c-raaaaazzyyy...

—————————————————————

"So, a movie then?" Dylan asks me as we are walking back to the front of the mall where John and Angelica said they would meet us.

"Yep! And please let me choose." I plead, dramatically begging him with my hands.

"Sure. But only if it's something I like." He smirks. "This isn't our first date, alright?"

"What?" My cheeks heat up, and I feel so flushed.

"Yeah. Because I want out first date to be real, Scarl, not with John and Amberina."

I stop walking and look at him with a look as if he were crazy.

"What?" He laughs.

"Okay, first of all, Scarl? What kind of a pet name is that? And her name is Angelica! Not whatever you just said!" I'm laughing so hard now that my stomach is hurting.

"Well, I meant it like Darl, you know, Darling. But since I call you Scarlet, it would be like Scarl." He makes so-you-see movements with his hands as he explained. "And I don't care what her name is."

My jaw dropped. "Hey, that's actually smart. And that's so rude!" I snort and playfully punch him in the stomach. He makes an O shape with his mouth and pretends to be injured.

"Help, help! I've been hit!" He whisper shouts and laughs. I shake my head, still overcome with fits of giggles.

Secretly, I liked the fact that he didn't care for her. I mean, I know that sounds really bad, but it's true.

As we walked through the auto door, hand in hand, we were met with the heat, contrary to the cool air coming through the air vents in the mall.

We see John, leaning on his Jeep, and Angelica waving her arms around, clearly explaining something.

I feel a gaze on me, and when I look up, I'm met with the dark green eyes that I'm so charmed by.
"I really dislike Angelica."

My eyes don't go wide from surprise. Instead, I murmured, "Me too. But for Johns sake, I hope I like her."

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  :: 𝑨𝑼𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑹𝑺 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑬 ::

Donee! How did you guys like the chapter? I knowwww it's long, but hopefully it makes up for long time with no updates. Sorry! Anyways I really hope you enjoyed! Leave your thoughts in the comments<3!
Love y'all!