The halls are empty, the lonely white walls seem to sympathise with you as you stride towards the Head Master's Office. The door always had the aura of authority and impending doom to you. The interior was completely unfamiliar to you since you have never been sent there since the day of enrolment.

Taking a deep breath, you push through the mahogany doors and make your way to the large desk in front of you. The Head Master peers over a stack of paper at you, his eyes clouded with frustration and sleep deprivation.

"Ah, Lilith, please take a seat," He directs you towards a seat and you swiftly obey him, not wanting to provoke him with disobedience.

"Lily is fine, sir," you politely inform him slowly, your stuttering hindering your speed.

You pause for a moment, taking the time to properly process your words before speaking them. It was a technique that took a while to master as you had always been the one to be quick to speak. It's just that there always something to be said.

You were diagnosed with the speech impediment when you just a little girl. You always thought it was normal to stutter at your age but the doctors didn't have the same idea as you. The stuttering was hard to conquer, especially when it came to making friends. Most people didn't want to talk to the kid with the speech impediment. She's weird. She can't speak properly. Matter of fact most of the people you met in primary school refused to speak you. You were smart enough to know that they were simply unable to process a different person in their primal emotional state.

As you grew up you managed to control your stutter to a minimal lisp or repeat of a certain vowel or consonant. The only time the stuttered worsened was when you were nervous or scared, which is 49% of the time.

College was not nearly as bad. A lot more people took the time to get to know you, but there was still a crowd that found their joy in verbally abusing you about your lack of social and speaking skills.

"Sir, I don't understand why I'm here," you manage to get out. "I don't remember doing anything wrong."

"You are correct, Lily, you have done nothing wrong, in fact, it is in the reverse." He explains. "See, we pride ourselves on our anti-bullying system and it has recently come to my attention that you have been the victim of several students' attacks. Is this true?"

You avert his steely gaze as you stutter out a swift 'no'.

"Lily, it does no good to lie to us, we know for a fact that you are being bullied."

You shake your head. "They are just messing around, sir, nothing I can't handle."

"You shouldn't have to handle anything. I want to formally apologise for our lack of action on this particular matter and to tell you that we are in the process of restoring peace amongst the ranks." He wears a prideful smile as he speaks. He calls out to several students in another room and each of them keep their heads down as they stand in front of the Headmaster.

You swiftly hide your face in an attempt to remain invisible to them.

"Young man, I have come to understand that you are the director of these insults towards this dear young lady. I have heard everyone's side of the story and I am satisfied with the outcome. You will be suspended for a week starting today and as for the rest of you...take this as a warning." Headmaster rises from his chair and stares directly at you. "Now, I would like each of you to apologise to Lily here before returning to your rooms, is that understood?"

The all mutter a solemn 'yes sir' before turning to face you. You gasp slightly at the sight of them, the sight making your already uneasy stomach churn. Each boy standing in front of you had an abrasion on some area of his face. Deeply coloured bruises discoloured their otherwise perfect skin.

Your hand covers your mouth instinctively to hide your shock.

They each give you a half-hearted apology, to which you readily forgive, and are dismissed.

"Ah, and alas, Mr O'Brien," Headmaster calls out. "Would you care to join us?"

Your ears burn at the sound of that name. O'Brien. Dylan? No, it can't be.

The same door cracks open once more to reveal a very badly beaten Dylan O'Brien. You stand to your feet immediately, too shocked at his appearance to care about the Headmaster's clear instructions to remain seated.

"Dylan, what on earth happened?" You stutter out, making your way over to where he stands.

"Just a few battle scars from my fight for the fair maiden, nothing I wouldn't do again." Dylan winks at you, his humour clearly not as wounded as his body.

"And that is where I interject you Mr O'Brien," the Headmaster interrupts. "Your fighting with those boys is unorthodox and completely unacceptable. I am, however, impressed by your diligent effort to protect a fellow student. Therefore, I have no other choice but to suspend you for a week also, fighting is not tolerated on this campus and I will not make exceptions, am I understood?"

"You fought for me?" Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion.

"He was quite the valiant fighter I must say." The Headmaster smirks, clearly enjoying the excitement.

"Sir, with all due respect, I think I should be punished also-" I try to spit out but am interrupted by the Headmaster.

"I have heard enough and I have already set out the punishments and my word is final. Now, back to you Mr O'Brien, am I understood?"

"Yes, sir," Dylan agrees, saluting the Headmaster. "Won't happen again."

"Good, you also may be on your way."

Dylan mutters a thank you before slipping out the door with you following close behind. Dylan was the first person to talk to you on campus. He often would have lunch with you after class and speak to you whenever he got the chance. It was a weird friendship to say the least, but the most meaningful nonetheless. He would slip you notes when the teacher wasn't looking, tell you cheesy pick up lines until you laughed so hard your ribs were sore.

He would always be there to comfort you in your time of need. Especially when your stuttering was dragging you down. He was there for you through it all. But this time, he had gone too far.

"Dylan O'Brien, what the hell did you get into a fight for?" You shouted, your frustration clearly coming out.

"Woah, chill mum!" He puts up his hands in faux surrender.

Your eyes scan the halls for some kind of private room. Your gaze lands on the janitor's closet and you make a beeline for that exact place, dragging Dylan behind you. Your long legs speed you down the hall, Dylan's dead weight trailing behind you unwillingly. Upon reaching the door, you shove Dylan in first to which you follow suit and close the door.

"Ooh, Lily, taking me into a janitor's closet, you know what this means...PUCKER UP!" Dylan mocks you, pursing his lips and leaning in.

You shove his shoulder in response, clearly not accepting his attempts to avoid the topic of his fight.

"Not this time, O'Brien, you're telling me what happened, right now." You demand, dropping your backpack down sitting on it. You quirk an eyebrow, signalling for him to proceed.

He lets out a sigh of defeat before sinking to the floor so that he is sitting directly in front of you. "They were saying bad things about you and I told them to shut up and they didn't. So, I tuned them up a little that's all."

"Dylan, they always talk trash about me! You know that! Why did you chose today to pick a fight with the jerks?" You inquire, clearly confused.

"Because...I li...you" He mumbles, clearly not wanting you to hear his confession.

"What?"

"BECAUSE I LIKE YOU! There are you happy?" He snaps, his voice raised.

You feel a hot tide creep up your neck and onto your cheeks.

"You like me?" you whisper. It was less of a question to him but rather to yourself.

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Because I didn't want to lose you."

You scoff out a laugh. "Lose me? Are you kidding?"

"Hey! It's not everyday I meet an amazing girl and befriend her! I need to cherish her as long as I can before I screw up, and that was what I was trying to avoid by not telling you...screwing up."

A small smile creeps onto your face at his heartfelt words. Your head falls forwards in a desperate attempt to conceal your red hot cheeks. You grab your backpack from underneath you and take out your personal first aid kit. It only had a few little things in it but it should do the trick for this instance.

"Come here," you command Dylan.

Dylan sits forwards slightly, just enough to let you reach him a little better. You grab a Band Aid out of the small kit and unwrap it. Leaning forwards you gently place the fabric adhesive over the large cut on his cheek. Once the Ban Aid is in place, you simply smooth it out and throw away the wrapping.

"There, all better." You say with a reassuring smile.

Dylan eyes are still on you, his eyes scrutinising your every feature. He sits forwards, closing the small gap between the two of you. He tenderly tucks a stray piece of brunette hair behind your ear, his hand lingering on your neck.

Your violet eyes dart around nervously as you try to process what he is doing. He leans in closer to you, his face so close you can feel his warm breath against your lips. Your eyes trace his face, pausing at each cut or bruise but swiftly returning to his entrancing hazel eyes. You watch his lips come closer to yours, inch by inch. The small cut on his bottom lip, which he had obtained from his fight, catches your eye and you wonder if is hurting.

"So, you weren't kidding when you said pucker up?" you blurt out in a nervous haze.

Dylan's eyebrow quirks at your sudden quirk but his confusion is soon enough replaced with a gentle chuckle. "Oh, no, most definitely not! You know me, Serious Sammy is the name, putting fun to shame is the game!"

"I thought you were an Ox because you were a very Buf-falo?" You retort.

"Hells to the yes honey!" he winks at you as he flexes his muscles.

You scoff at him, restraining yourself from laughing. "Don't flex too hard, you'll hurt yourself, we don't want a repeat of lacrosse tryouts now do we? You don't need anymore burst blood vessels because we all know you need as many as you get."

"Hey, nobody can resist a Buff Fellow, lemme tell you! Under all this fat is a beautiful hunk of-"

"Raw cookie dough?"

"No-"

"Damn, I could have sworn that was that spongy stuff I keep feeling every time I touch your arm!"

"Uhm, excuse you, this is a bully-free school, little miss Lily and bullying of any kind will not be tolerated. TO HELL WITH YOU!" He sasses back, clicking his fingers as he speaks.

"Aw, finally, I can board with you, finally a place that is as hot as me!" You clap sarcastic excitement.

"Well, you're not wrong."

"When am I wrong?"

"Well, you did say that Paul Wesley is hotter than Ian Somerhalder so let's see, once." Dylan smirks. "And there was also that time when I said that Bert's obsession with Pigeons could lead him to psychopathic tendencies and you disagreed with me. Obviously, a valiant love for pigeons is the sign of a psychopath."

"Better than a valiant love for Sesame Street."

"Excuse you, Sesame Street has more culture than most yoghurt."

"Did Elmo teach you that?"

"Of course not...It was Big Bird."

"My money's on Grouch."

"Your mum's a grouch..." Dylan mutters, a small smirk playing on his lips.

Your mouth drops in shock before you whack his arm. He yelps before chuckling at your reaction.

"You're awful." You pout, resisting the urge to laugh along with him.

"And you're beautiful since we're stating the obvious."

You shake your head at his cheesy remark before standing to your feet. You extend a hand out to Dylan, inviting to stand with you.

"Come on, let's get you to a real nurse." You say gently.

"You mean you're not a real nurse? I have been deceived!" He gasps, clutching his chest before taking my hand.

"I'm sure you'll find it in your heart to forgive me. Now let's go before you re-enact a Shakespeare play or something of similar embarrassment, Little Miss Drama Queen."

"I wear that title proudly, thank you very much!" He retorts, crossing his arms.

You shake your head before turning to leave the closet.

A hand snatches your before you can reach for the knob and spins you around. Before you can object, a pair of lips meet your own. Your eyes are wide, the shock of the unexpected action suddenly hitting you. Your eyes flutter shut, letting the moment set in.

Dylan's hand gently caresses your cheek as the other holds your neck steady. He presses you gently against the wall, removing the hand from your neck and placing it on your hip without missing a beat.

The sound of an unfamiliar grunt causes the two of you to snap apart. You both turn to see a very unhappy janitor, mop and bucket in hand. You push your glasses higher on the bridge of your nose as you stare awkwardly at the janitor.

"How long exactly have you been standing there?" Dylan inquires, his face completely free of emotion.

The janitor doesn't answer, he just stares at us with a blank expression. After what seems like an eternity he grunts out a command. "Out."

"Okey dokey!" Dylan swiftly answers before pushing me in the direction of the door. We snatch up our bags and rush out into the hallway, eager to get as far away from the creepy old janitor as possible. Your lips still tingle with the feeling of Dylan's not moments before you were interrupted and you smile at the memory that the two of you will now always share.

Dylan interrupts your thoughts by grabbing your hand. You intertwined your fingers through his as you continue to walk the hallway. The silence hanging over you two was one with an aura of peace and satisfaction, one you would have enjoyed for a while if it weren't for Dylan.

He leans down and whispers in your ear, as if to be careful no one else hears. "Do you think he likes pigeons?"

A/N ||  Hope you like it Lily!  I did really try to incorporate the bullying side for you and may have tweaked it a little.  I apologise if the writing is a bit haphazard as I am half asleep!  Thank you for your request!  It was a blast to write!