Dear Littleredhead,

I ...

Good Lord, I don't think I hate Dylan!

I don't how it began, but the fact is, it has begun. What? The End of Denver-hatred. No more last-name-terms, I think.

I mean, it was a couple of days ago and -- do you know Mr. T and I... have not been working out, Littleredhead? I am, of course, ready to give us another try; but, if that does not work out, I think we are plain headed for a breakup. Not a messy one, I hope.

Because we get along so wonderfully.

But, that said, I really don't think it will be a mess, if it happens -- and I think it might. Because it's so clear he loves Brody. He was actually trying to grasp Shakespeare, because she likes it! She chose that moment to pop into the scene, too. Brody, I mean. Mr. T sort of ignored me, after that. I walked off, but no hard feelings.

Because I'm pretty sure I don't love Mr. T -- and the way Brody talks about him, I can bet she does.

But, back to what I was saying. I don't exactly think I hate Dylan, anymore. I was down by the lake, a couple of days ago. Well, I took off my heels, placed them next to myself - they deserve to be petted, you know - and everything looked so pretty, I could not but help thinking that, if Dylan was here, everything would look even lovelier.

Of course, I'm sure I did not really mean that. Dylan is great to look at; but he's not THAT good. Really!

Which was when he stepped into the grounds, and -- well, he came up to me, and wrapped his arms around my waist, without a word. I was petting my heels, then, and did not see him, but I recognized him, at once. Because no one else can make me feel that way. Of course, I don't like him or anything, he is just another guy. All the same, when I spoke, my voice came out sort of... smallish, and I didn't want him to let go.

Which does NOT mean I like him.

Just that he is a good hugger, and LOTS of people are that. My mum is one. A good hugger, I mean.

Then he whispered, right in my ear, that it was his birthday; rested his head on my shoulder, and called me his Goldilocks. I narrowed my eyes, and let him know that my ears work fine, and that he does not have to sort-of-whisper into them. Which was my way to point out that I DID not like what he was doing. Or maybe I just wanted to convince myself that I did not like it?

But, of course, I could not really be angry at him, because he had just called me his Goldilocks, and that's such a sweet name. His Godilocks. HIS. Ugh, how I hated Dylan, then, for making me feel... not nice. I still wished him a happy birthday, though.

He asked what I had gotten him, and I pouted, and told him he had not informed me it was his birthday, beforehand. AND! I remembered what he had said in Madame Primpernelle's, that he likes this girl. Of course, the memory made me feel sort of unhappy - no, what am I saying, it did NOT make me feel unhappy - but I told him to ask HER for a present. That girl. The one he likes.

Then I crossed her arms and looked at him.

Bad Dylan!

He frowned, looked sort of... ah well, I can't describe that look, and said that he had already done that; but the girl did not know that it was his birthday, and therefore hadn't gotten him a present. Then he added that he isn't one for gifts and accepting them and other stuff like that that I can't remember, because I was too busy looking at -- wait a second! I was NOT too busy looking at him!

Then he asked me if I want to go and get a butterbeer, sometime. With him. With Dylan. Dylan Denver.

....

Yes.

Yes, that knocked all my breath away.

Waiiitt -- no, it did not! I wasn't happy, okay? I'm telling you I wasn't! I was just... stunned. Yeah, it wasn't like I couldn't get the fact that he was still holding me, and that his arms are really, really strong and awesome, and that he has an amazing chest, out of my mind, then. Really! I was just stunned, and THAT is why I couldn't even form a proper reply, and went, "I ... what?" in response.

But then I quickly reminded myself that people who hate each other can get butterbeers together, too, since enemies have as much of a right to meet and talk to each other, as friends, so I sort of... said yes. Don't give me that look, Littleredhead! Because I did tell him I'm not going to pay!

He said that that wouldn't be a problem, and that he will.

Then he tightened his hold on me, and asked if that was a yes.

I told him it was. Because enemies can go out with enemies, right? As enemies, of course? Then I tried to change the topic of conversation, and he told me that he didn't tell that girl he likes about his birthday, because she has been avoiding him, and I couldn't help but wonder how STUPID that girl is, to avoid DYLAN DENVER when he actually likes her and -- and I so don't care that he has feelings for that girl!

I am NOT jealous.

... and then he asked me if I'm still with Mr. T and, for some reason, I don't think he sounded too pleased about that. I didn't even know what to say; but, of course, I am still with Mr. T, so I said yes, and Dylan... let go of me. Just like that. How dare he? How dare he make me feel all nice and warm, and then LET GO OF ME?

But I couldn't ask him to hug me, again. Because then I would have felt like a traitor to Mr. T, even though I hate Dylan. Soooo... I made a stab at conversation - which seemed to have come to a standstill, all of a sudden - and asked him if he would like a present, from me. He said he does not need one, and I told him I could give him a hug, and then I did the stupidest thing in the world, and asked him if he was alright.

... and he suddenly brought up Mr. T, and said that I had kissed him - Mr. T, that is - right in front of him, when I had told him, Dylan, off for kissing Brody in front of me.

I had no idea what response to give. I did not even understand why we were talking about all of this. I tried to tell him that he had not been together with Brody, when the two of them had kissed; while Mr. T and I were plainly together. But that was of no use, and we were back to where he had started from, back to talking about birthday presents.

I gave him a hug - as a present - and asked him if that was okay, and he said a hug from me is "perfectly okay." Which was probably a sign of saying he did not want one. Because 'perfectly okay' is certainly no compliment. Though I pride myself on my warm!hugs. I asked him if he didn't want one, and he said that he loved it and... and being the IDIOT that I seem to become around Dylan Denver, I went,

"Are you sure you ... love it?"

He said it is... the best present he has ever had. Which made me say that I'm glad that *I* got to be the one to give it to him. He said he was glad that it was me, too, and... then he asked when I wanted to go and get the butterbeer. With him. I said anytime he is free - anytime I am free too, obviously - and then I asked him if something is, well, wrong with me. He asked if I was ill, and I went,

"I hate you, right? You hate me, too. Then why does it not seem like that's true?"

He said that ... Ugh, he said, "I hate you too. Of course I do. I do know I never want to let you go. But that is because you are sad, and hugging makes everything better." Then he asked me why I hate him, and I had no answer, except that he's amazing in every way, and that he has the best hair ever, and -- and I ended up telling him that it's because he's a bad Dylan, and because he kissed Brody in front of me.

DID I ADD? He actually he told me to cheer up, and said that, if I couldn't, maybe Torin could make me feel that. Why must he bring Mr. T into everything? Not to mention, the way he said Torin's name was... well, not too nice. Like he didn't like saying it.

I pointed out that he did not sound too pleased about that, and he mumbled something in response that made my eyes widen, and my pulse quicken, and a lot of things that I bet happen to everyone who talks to someone they really, really hate.

"I want to be the one that makes you happy. Not Torin. Me."

But he only --- sort of said it. His words were not exactly clear, and I was sure I had misheard. I could not even reply, for a second, there. All I could do was just... look at him, and then I had looked up and said,

"What did you say?"

It was a moment, if anything ever is, a special moment, a really, really special moment -- and it died, right then, right there, when a bunch of kids decided to create a mess, trying to use magic outside of the castle, and hurt each other with it. Head Boy Fritzera arrived, was joined by Mr. T, and of course I had to get up, and join them, since I happen to be a Prefect. Not that I don't love Prefectship, but... I am so sure something would have happened, then, if those kids hadn't interupted.

Something? WHAT AM I TALKING ABOUT? I am so sure, I am losing my marbles, or something. Thinking of Dylan Denver like that.

... and then, the moment things were sorted out - well, I wouldn't say they were sorted out. Because my special moment was stolen, quite ruthlessly, and I could NOT have it back, no matter how much I wanted it - Dylan sort of repeated what he had said - that he wants to be the one to make me happy - but Mr. T interrupted us at that VERY moment, and... kissed me on the cheek.

Right in front of Dylan.

I felt not right, then; very not right, felt a way I have never felt before in my life, and I had no idea what to do. All I knew was that I wanted to get away, away from everyone for a while, for a good, long while. So I picked my things, and told them I was leaving and -- and then I left.

....

I don't think I hate Dylan, anymore.

Or ever did.

Could I possible be in... no, that doesn't sound right. God, I can't believe I'm even thinking of Dylan Denver that way. Sure, he has amazing hair, and a perfect built, but I hate Dylan, I know I do -- no, I don't. UGH! I need coffee!

I need... to sleep.


Things to do:

♥ Get some sleep.
♥ Stop thinking of Dylan Denver.
♥ Ditto.
♥ DITTO!