#ddl66

- 5 years before the events of The Score -

There is tension in the room, tension so thick it feels like you're being suffocated which is something that you and Dean have never experienced in your 4 years of knowing one another. Dean sits next to you on the couch, his head resting in his hands, obvious tension on his face completely overtaking his features.

His blond hair is messy from the amount of times he has run his hands through it, causing it to stick up in odd directions. You sit still, tears that are fresh and dry rest on your face, a few drops fall into your lap and it takes everything in Dean to stop himself from reaching over and wiping them away. “I’m sorry Dean. I'm so sorry.” Your voice cracks in the middle of the sentence causing a fresh wave of tears to well up in your eyes.

Dean lifts his head from his hands and looks over at you with red, teary eyes of his own. “Ba-, shit sorry, Y/N you have no reason to be sorry. This is the best decision for the both of us, we chose to break up because long distance dating is impractical.” Dean takes a deep breath before continuing, “I love you. I always will and because of that I don’t want to be the one to hold you back. You need to go to your dream school without worrying and thinking about what your dumbass boyfriend is doing.”

Dean takes your hands in his, looking at you with red and irritated eyes. “Deanie-” He cuts you off. “You go live your life and I’ll go live mine but don’t think, even for a second, that we are breaking up because of lack of love. We are breaking up so we can become the best versions of ourselves and if one day we find each other again, and the timing is right, then you better bet your sweet ass that we will give this another go. Alright?”

Despite the situation you let out a small laugh. Leave it to Dean to bring a smile to your face in the midst of your breakup. “Yeah,” you say in a meek tone, “I’m gonna hold you to that Dean, cause you and I are far from our ending.” A lone tear rolls down Dean’s cheek, his smile faltering for only a second. You lean forward and kiss his cheek, lingering for one second too long before leaning back and letting go of Dean’s hands. “Goodbye Dean.”

Dean watches you leave. He stares at the door long after you cross the threshold, the room smells faintly of your perfume, the only sign that you were even there at all. Dean only has one thought at the forefront of his mind; this isn’t goodbye, as cliche as it sounds, this is until I see you later. The fear of holding you back is the only reason he is letting you walk out the door and out of his life but you will never walk out of his heart, you're there to stay until he sees you again.

────────── ❤︎ ──────────

- 5 years later -

Dean lays in his bed with his sheets wrapped loosely around his torso, his head is thrown back onto the pillows with one arm resting over his eyes. “Dean?” He hums in response. “Don’t you want to get something to eat? I know this great place down the street.” He lifts his arm and peeks one eye open, his gaze falling on a busty blond who is currently redressing, her name eludes him. Is it Ava? Maddie? Tara? Dean doesn’t know and honestly he doesn’t care.

“No.” His response is short and curt, no emotion showing on his face. Her face falls. Fuck, Dean thinks, this is why you don’t do freshmen they always get attached. “Look Ava-” She scoffs. “It’s Melody!” Dean winces. “Right, Melody. Look it’s nothing against you but I don’t date. I’m Six Flags, you come for a good time but you leave right after.” Melody just shakes her head in response, spitting “You’re fucking sick, Dean.” in his direction before leaving the room, slamming the door behind her.

After Melody leaves, Dean's room becomes silent. He doesn’t feel bad, he should, but he doesn’t. He never feels bad when this happens, something changed within him five years ago, something so deep that Dean himself didn’t see it happening until it reared its ugly head during his first college hookup freshman year. Now, Dean is a senior. He should be more mature, more respectful, and definitely nicer, but he can’t find it in himself to do these things. He hasn’t been able to ever since you walked out that door, all those years ago.

Once upon a time, Dean was all those things. He was mature, respectful, and nice. He was that way because of you, because he knew that you hated when men acted like dicks who thought the world owed them something. When Dean was with you he made sure to be the best version of himself, he made sure to always show you love and complete and utter respect because that is what you deserved. Dean rolls over and opens his bedside drawer and pulls out an old, crumpled photo.

The photo is of you and him. It was taken exactly one week before the end of your relationship. It was the last week Dean was truly happy, now that he thinks about it. Now, Dean loves the guys, they make him happy but not in the way that you did. No one has ever made him feel the way that you did. He holds the photo in his palm, running his finger over your smiling face, picturing the moment in his head. The way your hair smelled like your old apple-scented shampoo and conditioner, the way you would hold his face in your hands when you teased him about his cheesy pick-up lines.

Dean sighs and closes his eyes, putting the photo facedown on his chest and forcing the old memories of you and him out of his mind. “Dean!” Logan calls from downstairs, “We’re leaving in 5 for practice, if you’re not in the car we’re leaving without you!” Dean calls back down to Logan, telling him he’ll be down in 3 minutes before slowly getting out of bed and putting the photo of you in the back of his drawer. Dean went a whole 3 weeks without looking at the picture, a new record for him, now his streak is ruined because you constantly plague his thoughts and the only way to get you out of them is to creeply stare at your photo for hours on end.

By the time Dean gets downstairs the boys are surrounding the kitchen island discussing Dean and Beau’s joint birthday party that’ll take place tomorrow after the game. Little did he know that a certain brunette dressed as J-Lo will be the first girl to fully distract Dean for you, something that Dean craves because for the last 5 years every girl he’s been with only reminds him of you by the end of the night.

────────── ❤︎ ──────────

“Because I did.”

“Because I did.”

“Because I did.”

Those three little words replay in Dean’s head over and over again like a bad song. Dean didn’t complete the assignment but Allie did. For the first time in five years Dean stayed loyal to someone who captured his attention, who made him feel happy and whole, only for her to turn around and stab him in the back? Dean is in shambles. He is devastated. Why would Allie do this? Why does the first girl that Dean actually likes since you have to completely throw his feelings under the bus.

Beau stares at Dean’s shocked and hurt face. Beauknows, of course Beau knows. Beau is one of the only people at Briar who knows about you. The girl who Dean is still completely in love with. The girl who has never left Dean’s heart. Beau gives Dean a sympathetic look, his eyes saying what his mouth can’t at this moment; “I’m sorry Dean. I’m sorry you’re hurting again.” The front door of Malone’s chimes as a new patron enters the diner, his black hair is styled to perfection and his smug face has a cocky grin on it.

Allie gasps. Beau’s eyebrows shoot up. Dean turns around. While Allie is busy staring at Carter St. James (also known as Hunter Davenport), Dean and Beau are staring at the girl that entered behind Carter/Hunter. The girl who has haunted Dean’s thoughts since she exited Dean’s living room the summer after they graduated high school. You.

Dean has only experienced tunnel vision three times in his life. The first time was when Dean first saw you for the first time. You were standing at your locker, laughing at something your friend was saying but all he could see was you. Another time was your senior year of high school when a cocky football player decided to grab your ass when you bent over to pick up a pencil. The third time is right now at this very moment.

Everything else fades from view, there's no more Hunter Davenport and his smug face, no more Garrett and Hannah sucking face in a diner booth, just you. Walking back into his life like you never left at all. “Y/N!” Dean calls out. The smile on his face is bright as your head swivels into his direction.

You cannot believe it. Dean stands before you, a little more muscular than the last time you saw him but nevertheless, he is still the Dean you fell in love with all those years ago. You can feel tears welling in your eyes, your feet move without warning as you start walking towards him. Dean does the same, his feet carrying him towards you like they know where he was always meant to be.

You meet in the middle of Malone’s and embrace each other in a hug that feels like home. Tears flow down both of your cheeks, soaking your shirts. Finally, after all these years apart you and Dean are back in each other’s arms. The love you still feel for Dean comes rushing back in full force, overwhelming you immensely but being held in Dean’s arms makes all that noise go away.

Dean buries his face in your hair, your hair that still smells of your apple scented shampoo and conditioner. I’m home, Dean thinks, I’m where I’m meant to be. Dean squeezes you in his arms, just like he used to, before pulling back just slightly, close enough that you’re still in one another’s arms but far enough that your faces are now in front of each other. “Deanie,” you say, “I’m sorry,”

Dean tilts his head back and laughs loudly, the smile on his face is constricting the tears on his face. “How many times do I have to tell you? Don’t be sorry.” You smile and let out a light-hearted laugh, “Dean, how long do I have to wait for you to kiss me?” Dean brings a hand to your chin, gripping it gently before bringing his lips down to yours. He captures your lips in a slow kiss, savoring the taste of you, afraid you're going to disappear again.