Skyfall In Your Arms
Skyfall In Your Arms
Author: whyme_bookworm
P R O L O G U E

PROLOGUE:

6 months later. 

"Dylan," I eagerly waved through the window as he came into view and his eyes almost immediately met mine. His smile mirrored mine and he pushed the doors of 'Caffeina,' our all-time favorite coffee shop. 

I gave a quick glance at my reflection on the phone screen and patted away stray strands of hair. No matter how many times we went out on dates, I still felt self-conscious around him. The cafe door made a ting and he walked in a casual, yet sexy way. I bit back a smile, eyes never looking away from his and slowly stood up. Pain shot in my legs and I winced while clutching the table. 

He broke his stride and ran the last two steps towards me, "Hey, are you okay?" He gently wrapped his fingers around my waist to help me stand and I smiled, 

"Now that you're here, yes," I joked. Gosh, who would have thought I'd ever say those ridiculous cringy lines?

He wiggled his eyebrows and I lightly slapped his chest, "You're ruining the mood," I huffed.

"Oh, so there was a mood?" He lifted a brow questioningly. 

I gaped unattractively, "Of course! You idio-"

He placed his hand over my mouth and shook his head, 

"There are kids behind us, you can say that later," he smirked and I literally face-palmed. One second, I wanted to hug him because he was so sweet and the other, I just wanted to slowly, painfully strangle him. 

I sighed, "I was just going to say idio-"

"Shhh," he whispered and his eyes seemed to twinkle even brighter as my irritation grew. Why was I even dating him in the first place? As if he had read my thoughts, he gently sat me down and kissed me on the cheek. I hated the fact that all my annoyance flew out of the window and was replaced by some unexplained giddiness because of one little, kiss. Seriously, this guy could make me bipolar. 

"Sorry," he shot me an apologetic look and my eyes narrowed. He looked far from being sorry so he was probably holding back some evil cackles inside. Dylan slid into the seat across from mine just as a waitress strutted to our table. 

"So, cutie pies, what will you be ordering?" She smacked her bright red lips and I held back a laugh.

Dylan and I exchanged knowing, amused looks then he said, "One Espresso and a Mocha, please."

She nodded, jotted it down and walked away just as weirdly as she had come to our table. Alone together again, I stared at Dylan expectantly. He was usually the one to start the conversation with interesting topics but seeing as lately he wasn't in the mood, I decided to start it myself. 

"So, what is it that you wanted to talk about?" I took the napkin on the table and started twirling the edges. All the amusement in his eyes had disappeared and he was staring distractedly out of the window. I knew that something had been bothering him, lately. Every time we would go out, there was a moment when he'd zone out for no reason, looking away and it always left me with a heavy, confused heart. 

It was about time that he told me what was troubling him. I meant, what kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn't listen to his problems? He meant so much to me that it hurt when he was the one hurting. If that even made any sense. 

"Dylaaaaan," I said in a singsong voice and shook my palm in front of his eyes, "Hello, to planet Earth?" 

When he turned to look at me, the giggles died instantly in my throat. He wasn't just staring at me like he was sad, he looked destroyed. It was the worst expression he had ever shown me and what I felt wasn't fear of what he was about to tell me, it was pure grief. I straight away regretted that I woke up, walked to the coffee shop and waited for him. I regretted - in the most profound manner - that I had asked him what was wrong. I shouldn't have pried. 

Did that mean that I was ready to live a life with him and pretend that everything was alright when I knew that he was hiding something? Yes, if it meant that he wouldn't ever give me that horrid

look. The kind of look someone who was guilty of murder gave. 

I slowly pulled away, throat dry and heart pounding. 

I had already lived a life-changing moment in the past and-

"Hope-" his voice cracked. No.

"Don't." 

-I wasn't ready. I wasn't ready to relive it again. 

"Don't tell me," I repeated, this time more harshly. I was a coward and I fully owned up to it. Anyone would do the same in my situation. 

Dylan was the one person who had pulled me out of hell, given me hope that I could live again and fight for what I wanted to do. He made me stronger, happier and hopeful. I became someone different 6 months after the accident that changed my life - and body - but most importantly, I fell in love with him. 

I loved him too much to accept whatever he was going to say.

"One espresso and a cafe latte." I had no idea when the waitress approached our table but her appearance did not break the tension between us and we murmured a 'thank you.' She hung around for obviously no reason and when it was clear that we weren't going to spare her any attention, she sauntered away from the table. 

Dylan finally broke the silence, "I have to tell you."

"I don't want to hear it, Dylan," I shook my head and prepared myself to stand but my awful legs began creaking under my weight. 

He started nevertheless, leaning closer and his eyes shone painfully, "That day, the accident-" 

Tears welled up frustratingly in my eyes and I cut him off, practically screaming and blubbering at the same time, "I DON'T WANT TO-" 

"-it wasn't an accident."

However inaudible was his whisper, I heard it. 

I heard it clearly. 

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