Quietly Yours {Dean Di Laurentis x mute!reader} Part 2
Summary: Everyone at Briar knows Dean Di Laurentis. Nobody knows you. Not because you aren't friendly, but because people tend to make assumptions the moment they realize you don't speak. Some think you're shy. Others think you're rude. A few even assume you're deaf. You're used to correcting people with a tired smile and a note on your phone. Dean is no different...at first. Until he realizes your silence never stopped you from laughing, teasing, arguing, or caring. He starts discovering that you've always had a voice. It just isn't spoken.
Warnings: mentions of being mute, misunderstandings
By the end of the week, Dean Di Laurentis had developed a habit.
At least, that's what he kept telling himself.
Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, he found himself arriving at his English elective five minutes earlier than usual. Not because he'd suddenly become passionate about nineteenth-century literature, and certainly not because he was worried about missing Professor Reynolds' lecture.
It was because you always arrived early.
And somehow, without either of you ever discussing it, the seat beside you had quietly become his.
Dean dropped into the chair with a familiar grin.
You looked up from your laptop, the corners of your lips lifting into a small smile.
Instead of reaching for your phone this time, you raised one hand.
Dean watched as your fingers moved gracefully through a sign he didn't understand.
His smile faltered for only a second.
"...Was that 'good morning,' or did you just call me an idiot?"
Your shoulders shook with silent laughter.
You picked up your phone.
Wouldn't you like to know?
Dean clutched his chest dramatically.
"I've known you for four days and you're already bullying me."
He leaned back in his chair.
"Garrett hits me regularly."
You laughed again, and Dean decided—quite confidently—that making you laugh was becoming one of his favourite things.
It was different from everyone else's laughter. Softer. Quieter. It never echoed through a room, but somehow it still filled the space around you.
He found himself chasing it.
Across the room, Garrett walked in with Logan.
Logan's eyes immediately landed on Dean.
Garrett followed his gaze and sighed.
Dean was already talking animatedly while you typed responses on your phone.
"He didn't even wait until class started," Logan muttered.
"I give it another week before he's completely whipped."
The lecture passed surprisingly quickly.
Professor Reynolds split the class into pairs to analyse a passage from Pride and Prejudice.
"Looks like we're partners."
You gave him a mock look of disappointment before opening your notebook.
You scribbled something before turning the page toward him.
You have approximately forty minutes to prove you're useful.
"Okay, first of all, rude."
He reached for the novel, reading through the assigned passage.
For the next twenty minutes, the two of you worked surprisingly well together.
Dean talked through his ideas while making sure to pause often enough for you to write or type your thoughts.
He noticed you preferred writing when your responses were longer.
Typing was faster for jokes.
Your eyebrows did a remarkable amount of communicating on their own.
Whenever you disagreed with him, one eyebrow lifted just slightly.
Whenever he said something genuinely clever, your eyes softened.
Whenever he made a terrible joke...
You pinched the bridge of your nose.
"You know," Dean said, "I'm starting to understand your facial expressions."
You tilted your head innocently.
"See? That one. That's your 'you're embarrassing yourself' face."
A smile spread across your face before you quickly looked back down at your notebook, trying—and failing—to hide it.
After class, the hallway buzzed with students discussing assignments and weekend plans.
Dean walked beside you as usual.
You considered it for a moment before typing.
Slowly, you looked up at him.
"...Poor choice of words."
You nodded as if agreeing with yourself.
Just then, a voice interrupted.
A blonde girl jogged over, slipping her hand around his arm with practiced familiarity.
"Oh. Hey... Brittany, right?"
The girl's smile tightened for the briefest moment.
You watched the interaction quietly.
Not because you were jealous.
But because you'd seen this before.
You took a small step backwards, giving them space.
Dean noticed immediately.
"So," Brianna continued, "are you coming to Sigma Phi tonight?"
She finally glanced at you.
Her smile turned politely confused.
Before Dean could answer, Brianna looked directly at him instead of you.
Dean's expression changed.
Just enough that the easy grin faded.
There wasn't any irritation in his voice.
Brianna looked slightly flustered before turning to face you properly.
You offered her a reassuring smile and typed a quick response.
No worries. Nice to meet you.
Relief crossed Brianna's face.
After a few more awkward pleasantries, she excused herself.
The moment she disappeared into the crowd, Dean let out a breath.
"For not stopping her sooner."
He looked at you carefully.
"I just... didn't like that she looked through you instead of at you."
Your fingers hovered over your phone.
For a long moment, you didn't type.
Instead, you simply looked at him.
Most people needed reminding.
He hadn't answered for you.
He hadn't explained your muteness like it was something to apologise for.
He had simply redirected the conversation back where it belonged.
"You don't have to thank me."
For reasons he couldn't quite explain, those four words settled somewhere deep in his chest.
That evening, after hockey practice, Dean lay sprawled across the couch in the hockey house.
Logan wandered into the living room, towel slung over his shoulder.
Dean quickly locked his phone.
"You've got the same guilty face you make when you steal Garrett's protein bars."
Dean sighed dramatically before unlocking his phone again.
On the screen was a beginner's lesson.
American Sign Language – Lesson One: Greetings
"...You're learning sign language?"
Dean rubbed the back of his neck.
"I thought... it might be nice."
Logan stared at him for another second before a slow grin spread across his face.
"I've known her less than a week."
Logan laughed all the way upstairs, leaving Dean alone with his phone.
He replayed the lesson once more, carefully copying each movement.
His fingers felt awkward.
Because if there was even the smallest chance that one day he'd be able to greet you in your own language...
It would be worth every mistake.
Taglist {open}: @ooopssssu @sleep-i-ness @zagreen @alice07ea @adrienneleclerc @nau-van @kmc1989 @femurgetokill @sshxamy @f4ll3n28 @redbag55 @meriamloves-tsunoda-yuki @rainbowstar405 @gandalfthegoatsblog @dina2223 @partygetsmewetter12 @notplutos @lulusa27 @angelsvoice1love @superbfishhumanoidweasel @ilocuras24 @inchidentontheracetrack @five-seconds-flat @thecraziestcrayon @yolasturlis @noonenuts @wonderland2425 @purplerainx1 @sarcasm-ismy-onlydefense-blog @iamshiningeuw @nicolej04 @mld25 @brianna28483 @fangirl93 @bellarkeselection @calums-betch @mswwvaleska @wiishies @bookluver114 @hagarsays @lilliepetalx @raynetargaryan2 @c-a-b3002 @mariamadison6-blog @baeeyarr @monayyy-21 @demirunner @flannelshirts-and-fingerguns @loverofmusic @velvetsighs @alwaysclassyeagle @missbmc94 @ethanthequeefqueen @garrettgrahamssexysnaps @parker-barnes-af @peterpangirl21 @katrinaellie @idontknowwhyimhere33 @powellssaturn @sangxiaonisworld @ephemeralninon @kkkkisworld @laenys-targaryen @smilezzz-artzs
