As we stepped into the dorm room, Dylan didn’t speak.
He just closed the door behind us with a soft click and set his bag down like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t peeled me away from Lucas in front of half the quad.
I stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, still holding the little paper cup the nurse had given me — now empty, except for a faint tea stain at the bottom.
“You hungry?” he asked casually, already walking to the mini-fridge.
I shook my head.
He pulled out a bottle of water and handed it to me anyway.
“You should hydrate. Your body’s still coming down from the panic.” He sat on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees. “And don’t worry about earlier. People fall. It’s not the end of the world.”
I nodded, but my eyes stayed on the floor.
“She said they called my RA,” I said quietly.
“They did,” Dylan replied. “He called me because I’m your roommate. Said you were in the nurse’s office and they didn’t want you left alone after.”
That answer was simple. Too neat. But it tracked.
He stood slowly and walked to my side of the room, not fast, not threatening — just steady.
Then he opened my desk drawer.
I stiffened.
“Still empty,” he said, almost to himself. “You didn’t find them?”
No. Of course I didn’t.
Because they weren’t lost.
He took them yesterday — right out of my hand. Held the bottle like it was his choice to make. Told me I didn’t need them.
And now he was pretending like I’d misplaced them?
My stomach twisted.
But I didn’t say any of that. I just shook my head.
He turned to look at me — not surprised.
“Well, that’s probably for the best,” he said gently. “You don’t need to rely on pills every time you feel something hard.”
He walked back to his desk and opened the top drawer — the one I hadn’t touched — and pulled out a small brown bottle.
The label was peeled off.
My chest went cold.
“Something to help you sleep later,” Dylan said casually, placing it on my nightstand. “Not now. Just when you’re ready.”
“And this?” I asked as he placed a single mini bottle of dark liquor next to it.
“A calming aid,” he said smoothly. “It’s not a big deal. You don’t need much — just enough to quiet the noise. Like people have been doing for centuries.”
I didn’t respond.
He watched me for a moment, then smiled faintly — like he’d said something clever, and I just didn’t get the joke yet.
“You need a routine,” he added, as if we hadn’t just shifted into something darker. “You’re spiraling. You need structure. Sleep at the same time every night. Meals. Downtime. And I think you should stop taking advice from people who don’t actually care about you.”
My stomach twisted. “You mean Lucas?”
“I mean anyone who only shows up after they’ve already hurt you,” Dylan said. “I mean anyone who isn’t here. Right now. Taking care of you.”
His tone wasn’t angry. It was gentle.
Measured.
“I’m not trying to control you,” he added. “I’m trying to protect you.”
Then, like it was nothing, he reached up and brushed a piece of hair from my forehead.
I didn’t flinch.
But I didn’t breathe, either.
His eyes studied mine. “You’re okay,” he whispered. “You’re safe now. Let’s keep it that way.”
I swallowed.
He handed me the water bottle again and placed it gently into my hand.
“Rest,” he said. “Just for a little bit. No screens. No noise. Let your system reset.”
“It’s not even noon,” I said weakly.
“All the more reason to rest early,” Dylan said. “You’ve had a full day already.”
He moved to his desk and sat down with a leather-bound notebook. But I noticed how his eyes flicked toward me every few seconds.
And then—
A knock.
Three sharp taps on the door.
Dylan’s head lifted.
I tensed.
He stood and opened the door just a crack. I could hear a voice — quiet, but clear enough.
“Just checking in. RA said to follow up after the nurse visit. Everything okay in here?”
Dylan smiled — I could hear it in his voice. “We’re fine. He’s resting now.”
A pause.
“Okay. Let us know if he needs anything.”
The door clicked shut again.
When Dylan turned back to me, the smile was gone.
“I don’t want you overexerting yourself,” he said. “Let me handle things for a while. You focus on staying level.”
I nodded.
Not because I agreed.
But because I didn’t have the energy to do anything else.
He handed me the bottle again.
I stared at it.
And I still wasn’t sure which one of them I should be afraid of.
Dylan didn’t sit back down.
Instead, he picked up the small bottle from the nightstand and turned it once in his fingers, watching the liquid move inside like it was thinking for him.
“You don’t have to,” he said calmly. “I’m not forcing you.”
He held it out anyway.
“But you are spiraling,” he continued. “And you already know what happens when you don’t take care of yourself.”
My fingers twitched.
“I told the RA you were resting,” Dylan added, voice still even. “If they check again and you’re worse? That won’t look good. They’ll start asking questions. About your meds. About why you’re not managing.”
I swallowed.
“This,” he said gently, tipping the bottle just enough for the smell to reach me, “will take the edge off. Just enough so you can breathe. Just enough so you don’t scare yourself again.”
I shook my head, barely. “I don’t think I should mix things.”
Dylan smiled — not wide, not cruel. Understanding.
“That’s why I’m here,” he said. “So you don’t have to think about it.”
He stepped closer, placing the bottle into my hand instead of offering it.
His fingers lingered for half a second too long.
“You trust me,” he said softly. It wasn’t a question. “Don’t you?”
My chest felt tight again. Not panic — something slower. Heavier.
I looked down at the bottle.
Then back up at him.
Dylan’s eyes didn’t leave my face.
“Just a sip,” he said. “And then you can rest.”
The bottle felt warm in my hand.
I felt my body tense.
“Noah?”
I looked up at Dylan.
“You don’t trust me?”
I sighed.
“I just don’t get why you won’t tell me what’s inside it.”
“Noah.” He smiled. “If you don’t want to drink it, that’s totally fine.”
I sighed again, heavier.
“Look, it’s not that I don’t trust you. I just… I don’t want to need you.”
“Really?” Dylan said, pulling out his phone.
He scrolled through it for a moment, slow and casual — like he already knew what he’d find.
I’d set the small brown bottle down.
“Looks like Lucas is really enjoying Megan’s company,” Dylan said finally. “He’s asking a lot of questions about you.”
“Really? I wonder why,” I said aloud — but in my head, I already knew.
Lucas was trying to get close to me again.
I just didn’t know why.
Also… Lucas was always popular with girls. I wonder where he and Megan will end up romantically.
“You don't find that odd?” Dylan asked. There was a change in his tone.
“What? I don't know, should I?”
“What better way to hurt an enemy than to find out as much information about them as possible and get close to them? This guy was basically your bully for years right? Why trust him now?”
“I never said I trusted him.”
“Noah…” Dylan said. His voice chilling for the first time.
“I told you to stay away from him didn't I?”
I froze. He has never sounded like that before.
“Noah, it's okay. I'm not mad at you.”
I didn't respond.
“Look, its for your own good. Stay away from him and I might give you one of your pills tomorrow morning.”
“But… you said I lost them.”
“No, I took them for awhile remember? You where threatening to kill yourself..You just don't remember. I said you lost them so you wouldn't freak out and ask me for them.”
“I… I tried to…?” I stammered.
I don't remember. Is he telling the truth? I know I was in a dark place but I… Well I mean what other good reason would he have to take my medicine from me.
“”I didn't know I did that.”
Now I just feel stupid. Small. Out of control. I can't believe I took it that far. Was it after I had that dream?
“It was all after you came from Lucas’ place. I think something happened. He must of did something to you to make you spiral. After all you couldn't remember anything anyway.”
“You’re right… I couldn't.”
“Thats why I've been taking care of you.”
“I’m sorry to have caused you so much trouble.”
“I only ask that you stay away from Lucas for your own sake.”
“I understand. I'll stay away.”