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Yesterday was my birthday and you CAN tell I am 100% a Lo’ak girl, like I’m not even kidding, look at my bday cake and the gift they got me 😭

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mermaid-sky-writes

Taxi (part three)

Maybe I might fall in love tonight inside the backseat, Maybe we could fall in love tonight inside the backseat

summary: you reunite with the love of your life inside the back of a taxi pairing: dean dilaurentis x reader content: slightly smut, suggestive content, lots of angst (like really, super angsty i swear), romance, flashbacks

inspiration: TAXI by EXES (preview of the song at the end of the story)

part one, part two

Could it really be possible for me to fall in love with Dean all over again in the backseat of a taxi?

I didn't know, but a part of me wanted to believe it. As his lips trace down my neck and my hands travel across his back, I remind myself that this is the present. The past, the bad things, and the bitter memories were forgotten—at least for now. With a certain shyness, Dean reaches for the edge of my t-shirt and begins to lift it; at the same time, I help him pull off his white sweater. A gasp escapes my mouth when I see Dean shirtless. He was more muscular and defined now; nothing remained of the seventeen-year-old boy with whom I had my first time. The only boy I had ever let into my life that way. When his mouth returns to my neck, I sigh and bite my lower lip. His hands delicately caress my waist and move upward, stopping over my breasts, massaging them so softly that I can't help but groan out loud.

I blush, remembering that we were in the backseat of a taxi parked in a store lot.

I feel Dean smile against my neck before he shifts the direction of his kisses until they meet my lips again. The moment I feel his tongue slip into my mouth, I lose control. Quickly, I unbutton Dean’s pants and help push them down to his ankles. In the same manner, Dean unbuttons my pants and removes them, leaving them on the floor of the car. Now, both of us were in our underwear, panting and seeking more of each other with every movement, with every kiss.

I sigh as Dean lowers his head to the level of my breasts and kisses them delicately. My hand travels into his hair, gripping it between my fingers and tugging slightly as his kisses grow more intense. When Dean’s hand reaches the clasp of my bra, my breath catches. I could stop this; I could tell him this was a mistake. But a mistake shouldn't feel this good, and above all, it shouldn't be exactly what I need so badly. So, I don't stop him. I don't stop him even when he rids me of my panties.

I bite my lower lip, keeping myself from crying out as I feel him inside me. He was moving slowly, but it had been a long time since I’d been with anyone. So, it practically felt like the first time. It was ironic to think that the last time I was with someone it was with Dean, and now that I was with someone again, it was also him. I place my hands on Dean’s shoulders and feel them tense with every thrust of his hips. The heat and the panting build in the back of the small car, and I feel like I might explode at any moment.

When my breathing returns to normal, I rest my head on Dean’s chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat. Now I was on top of him, pressing my body against his, with my hair and my mind a total mess. Everything inside me told me this shouldn't have happened—but what if it really was meant to? Maybe I needed this to forgive Dean, or maybe I needed this to reaffirm to myself that staying away from Dean was for the best.

"What are you thinking about?" Dean asks suddenly in the darkness of the car. The streetlights barely reached the backseat, leaving us practically in the shadows.

"About everything," I answer with a sigh.

"You're not..." I hear him swallow hard. "You're not regretting this, are you?"

I lift my head from his chest and meet his deep blue eyes, which are watching me carefully.

"No," I say, and I see his face relax. "This had to happen."

Dean frowns. "Why do you say that?"

"Because..." I sigh. "How else could I admit how much I've missed you?"

The smile that spreads across Dean’s face makes my heart skip a beat. I smile back without thinking. He looked so happy, and I couldn't blame him; I felt the exact same way, only with an internal battle raging between what I had felt for so many years and what I was feeling at this precise moment.

"I missed this," he said, catching me off guard. "All of this. Your smile, your hair, you."

I sigh and rest my head on his chest again, not knowing exactly what to say. I'm sorry for walking away? For never coming back? It wasn't exactly my fault. I felt like I had no other choice.

"Where will you go?" I murmured.

"I was thinking about Italy," he replies, taking a deep breath. "My mother has a house there and she's been traveling constantly lately, so I thought I could go with her."

"Why?" I asked almost instantly.

Dean falls silent, taking his time to answer, but when he does, it leaves me breathless: "Because New York isn't the same without you. It hasn't been the same since you left."

"But I'm here now," I say, feeling small. I didn't like feeling this way—so vulnerable around him.

"I know," Dean replies. "But for how long? Until the holidays are over? We both know that once the New Year ends, you'll go back to California." He sighs. "And I don't know if I can go back to that. To counting the days until your return. Days that turn into weeks, then months, and then years."

I knew it. I knew it had affected Dean just as much as it had affected me. My mind had been so determined to make me believe that Dean just carried on as if nothing happened—partying, happy, celebrating with his friends while I plunged into my sadness every single day. But as always, it wasn't the way I had thought. And it was horrible knowing that we had both hurt each other.

I feel a massive lump in my throat that prevents me from speaking, so I just limit myself to sighing.

"But it's okay," Dean says. "I understand. I understand that it will take time for you to believe in me."

I lift my head from his chest and place my hands on his face. "It will take time," I say with a sigh. "But how am I supposed to do that if you're not here?"

I see Dean’s jaw tighten, and I run my hand over that exact spot, caressing it softly.

"We've both hurt each other," I whisper, "but we're still here. Right now, together. That has to mean something, doesn't it?"

Dean nods and pulls my body into an embrace. I can't help the smile that forms on my face as I lose myself in the warmth of his chest. As I drift off to sleep, I can hear Dean’s breathing, and it comforts me. Was I really willing to give Dean another chance? After all this time?

A noise at the car window wakes both Dean and me up. I look outside and see the taxi driver leaning against the car with his back to us.

"Hey guys," he says, his voice strained as if he's trying not to laugh. "I found help. I'm going to let you... you know." He chuckles. "But don't worry, I didn't see anything."

I blush, and Dean laughs, shaking his head. I quickly put my clothes back on, and Dean does the same. Then we both get out of the car to stretch our incredibly sore muscles.

"Sorry for the delay," the guy says sheepishly. "A guy said he'd help me if I beat him in a beer pong match." He rolls his eyes. "It’s been an interesting night. How about you guys?" As he says this, his face turns bright red and he starts to cough. "I... uh, you don't have to answer."

Both Dean and I laugh, and then Dean walks away to see if the man needed help while hooking up a hose connecting the taxi to a fuel container. Once I'm left alone with the driver, I notice he is still blushing.

"Can I ask you something?" he says, catching my attention.

"Sure"

"Things have changed between you two, right?"

My mouth drops open, and then a laugh escapes me. "Yeah, you could say that."

"I can tell," he says, chuckling. "You don't have that look on your face anymore."

"What look?" I frown.

"When you looked at him before, I could see sadness, resentment, and I'd even venture to say hate." He sighs. "But now you look at him as if you're afraid to lose him."

"You're quite the observer, aren't you?"

The guy laughs. "When you work in this business, you notice a lot of things. Even things the passengers don't notice about themselves."

I smile and glance over at Dean chatting with the man with the gasoline.

"He hurt you, didn't he?" the guy asks.

"He was the first boy I ever fell in love with, and he broke my heart."

"Wow," he huffs, taking off his cap. "That's a tough thing to forget."

I sigh and nod.

"But you still love him, don't you?"

Did I? Damn it, I didn't have an answer. Dean was the only boy in my life. He was everything to me. But after a betrayal got in the way, it was hard for me to think about him and my feelings. Now that I knew the truth—something I hadn't expected—could it change everything?

Before I can answer, Dean returns and announces to the guy that the car is ready to resume our trip to East New York. My hands sweat and I feel my body tremble once we find ourselves back in the backseat of the taxi, now heading home. What would happen after the ride ended? Maybe we could go back? Pause the drama and start from scratch. Was that even possible?

"Smoke is going to come out of your head if you keep thinking like that," Dean says, drawing my attention.

I give him a playful punch to the chest, prompting him to take my arm and pull me against his body. It was comforting to be like this with him. Sitting next to each other, cuddling in the back. It felt as though we were all alone on this journey. I look out the window at the city. It was four in the morning already, but the city was livelier than ever. That was what I adored about New York; here, the night was infinite. Here, there was always a possibility to fix things. If you messed up at a certain point in the night, you had all the time in the world to resolve it. Dean takes my hand and intertwines our fingers while I rest my head on his chest and close my eyes.

I wanted to stay like this forever. With my hair fluttering around my head from the air coming through the driver's window. With Dean holding me in his arms and his chin resting on top of my head. Being here, it felt as if nothing had happened five years ago. As if we both belonged in that backseat.

When the car stops, I don't want to open my eyes. I really don't want to. I feel Dean’s lips close to my ear and I force myself to do it. We were already outside my dad’s house. The lights were off, and the only things I could hear were Dean’s breathing and a Beatles song playing in the background.

"We're here," Dean murmurs with a hint of bitterness.

I look in the rearview mirror and see the driver giving me a sad smile. It was as if he knew exactly what my mind and heart were feeling right now. With my heart pounding, I turn to look at Dean and I know I have so many things to tell him. So much to express. But I can't. I simply can't.

"Go on, get out," Dean says with a chuckle, "or the fare will go up." Then he adds, "Even more."

That makes me laugh, but I can't stop the tears from spilling from my eyes. I looked like a crazy person, laughing with my face bathed in tears.

"I don't want you to go, Dean," I say suddenly.

Dean frowns in a way that makes him look adorable. "I'm only a few blocks away."

My hands grip his sweater, holding on tightly. Wishing he wouldn't walk away from me.

"You know what I mean."

Dean sighs, his gaze fixing on the car window. I see him swallow hard, and I feel my legs tremble.

"Do you love me?" he asks suddenly. "After everything, do you still love me?"

I can't answer. I simply can't do it. I wasn't sure of anything—not after what happened between us, and not after all that time spent away from each other. Dean smiles, but it's a bitter smile, and he opens the taxi door. Somewhat dazed, I get out too, and it doesn't take long for Dean to place my suitcase in front of me.

"I love you" Dean says, leaving me frozen. "I love you, even if you can't love me back."

Without letting me respond, Dean climbs back into the backseat of the car and closes the door, disappearing from my sight in seconds. I bite my lower lip, trying to stop myself from crying even harder, but I can't. I was a covered in tears, and that is exactly how Katherine finds me when she opens the front door of the house. Without even asking a thing, Katherine wraps her arms around me and lets me cry for as long as I need to. Though I wasn't sure if it would be enough. To get over something like this, I would have to cry for a year, or maybe even another five.

mermaid-sky-writes

Taxi

Maybe I might fall in love tonight inside the backseat, Maybe we could fall in love tonight inside the backseat

summary: you reunite with the love of your life inside the back of a taxi pairing: dean dilaurentis x reader content: angst, romance, flashbacks

inspiration: TAXI by EXES (preview of the song at the end of the story)

A/N: this is a short story so this is just the first part, I'll be uploading the rest later, also english is not my first language but i hope you like it still :)

part two

I rub my hands, which are covered in thick, plush gloves, but the cold remains and seems determined to stay. Well, it was obvious. I was arriving in New York in December. Expecting the weather not to be as terrible as it currently is, was pretty foolish of me.

"Answer, Katherine," I curse again when I get no response whatsoever from my older sister.

I was back in New York after a long time. My parents had separated when Kat and I were just girls. While Mom decided to stay in California, Dad took a bit of a risk and chose to settle down somewhere completely different. Both Kat and I wanted to stay close to both of them, so I used to spend a season with my dad and the majority of the time with Mom. Unlike me, Kat preferred the weather and views of New York.

But here I was again. I hadn’t been here in almost five years, and though I was excited to see Dad and Kat again, the reality was that I had spent months and years avoiding this visit. I liked New York. It was my second home. But it was also the place where my heart had been broken for the very first time. And that’s something no girl wants to return to.

"For God's sake, Katherine, are you kidding me?" I say under my breath, but a guy throws a curious look my way as he passes by, dragging a massive suitcase.

My sister was supposed to pick me up from the airport—or at least, that had been her promise when she found out I was coming to visit for the holidays. I sigh and check the time on my phone again. It was 11:30 PM, and there were only two possible reasons why Katherine wasn't answering her phone. The first was that she was fast asleep, which I doubted since it was a Friday night in New York. That brought me to the second reason: Katherine was probably out partying.

Thirty minutes later, I was seriously contemplating different ways to murder my sister. Right, to hell with Kat. I could make it home by myself. After all, how hard could it be to catch a taxi?

I grab my suitcase and step out into the freezing air, which makes my entire body shiver. Since the holidays were just around the corner, taxis seemed to be in extremely high demand, so it didn't surprise me that not a single one was waiting outside the airport. Central New York needed thousands of cabs to take drunk tourists back to their hotels. Frowning, feeling my hands completely numb, I spot car headlights in the distance. I pray silently that it’s a taxi, raising my hand the instant I see the tiny yellow car.

When it pulls up and I see the sign indicating that it is indeed a taxi and currently in service, I relax almost instantly.

"Hi," I greet him politely. "Excuse me, I'm struggling to find a taxi. Are you heading East?"

The driver nods and smiles a bit nervously. "Yes, miss."

"Great," I say with a laugh. "I thought I'd never get home."

"The fare is a bit high because of the hour, but I can take you."

"Thank you." I smile, and the guy gets out to help me put my suitcase in the trunk.

Once he shuts it, he quickly hops back in, and I do the same. Slipping into the back seat, I jump and feel my heart stop when I notice a guy sitting there, watching me with a curious smirk.

"Oh my God, you scared me to death," I frown. "I'm sorry. I didn't know the taxi was already occupied."

"You're both heading East, miss, it's no trouble for me to take you both."

I open my mouth to say something, but then my stomach drops as I recognize the guy sitting next to me. Five years had passed, but he was exactly the same. Same blue eyes, same troublesome smile, same Dean.

"Dean," I sigh, breathing out his name.

"Hey," he replies instantly.

I close my eyes. Why did this have to happen to me? Seriously? Of all the guys in New York and all the taxis... why did he have to be in mine?

"I'm sorry, but this isn't happening," I say quickly, trying to open the door, but Dean stops me, grabbing my arm.

"Seriously?" he sighs. "It's almost midnight and there are no taxis around. I'm not leaving you here."

"Well, I'll figure something out. But I am not riding in this car with you."

The taxi driver, with the car still in park, looks back and forth between Dean and me with amusement and a bit of confusion. I cross my arms, and Dean mimics my action. Now we look like two toddlers fighting in the back seat of their parents' car.

"Uh... guys," the driver interrupts our little argument. "Can I start driving or...?"

"Yes," Dean answers.

"No," I interrupt this time.

"I forgot how stubborn you are."

"It's good that at least one of us can forget."

A silence settles over the small car, and the driver clears his throat, catching Dean's attention.

"Drive."

I open my mouth to protest, but the guy starts the engine and pulls away before I can even think about getting out. Oh my god, five years avoiding running into Dean Di Laurentis, and now I found myself sharing a taxi with him. Thanks, life.

Still with my arms crossed, I turn my head towards the window, trying to ignore Dean's presence—even though the reality was quite the opposite. I could feel him. I could feel the heat radiating from his body next to mine, the scent of his cologne that was practically engraved in my memory, and, of course, his blue eyes locked onto me.

"What?" I ask, turning my head. "Would you rather take a picture? That way you can look at it longer."

Dean suppresses a smile and shakes his head. "How have you been?"

I shrug. "Fine, I guess."

"I didn't know you were coming to the city for the holidays," he says. "Kat didn't mention it."

Ah. So that traitor Katherine was still in touch with him. This was going to make for an interesting dinner conversation.

"I wasn't planning on coming," I reply. "I didn't want to. But there was a change of plans."

"Your dad is going to be so happy," he says, completely ignoring my comment about not wanting to be here. "He hasn't stopped talking about how much he misses you."

"You still talk to my dad?"

"Of course," he frowns. "Why wouldn't I?" I look at him, raising an eyebrow, and Dean just smiles. "Not as much as before, but we run into each other here and there."

I don't answer. It was pretty obvious my dad would want to keep talking to him. To my father, Dean was the perfect guy. They shared the same love for hockey and local bars. And I didn't blame him; Dean was perfect. Or he used to be. Before everything happened.

"And how's California?" he asks. "As hot as always?"

I don't answer again, and I notice Dean scratch his neck, looking a bit frustrated.

"Are you going to ignore me the whole ride?"

When I don't reply, Dean scoffs and rests his head against the window. I should have felt glad that I was managing to maintain this distant attitude with him, but for some reason, my chest ached. I knew Dean deserved it, but a part of me didn't want to accept it. The driver glances back at us and turns up the radio volume to ease the tension and awkwardness Dean and I are causing. A rock song plays, and the guy switches stations. He keeps flipping through until Dean asks him to stop. My eyes shut. Oh God, not now.

"This song," Dean says, laughing and shaking his head. "I haven't heard it in years."

Anita Ward's Ring My Bell blares loudly through the speakers of the small taxi. I can't help but remember that time we went to that bar—the only bar that would let us in when we were seventeen. It was karaoke night. I didn't want to go up because I was terrified of making a fool of myself, so Dean figured if he went first, I’d lose my fear. And there it was again: the memory of Dean dancing and singing in such a ridiculous, hilarious way.

As if Dean knows exactly what's running through my mind, he turns to look at me with a grin, and I can't help but laugh.

"It's a good song, you have to admit it," he points at me, and I shake my head.

"It's old," I say, laughing.

"It's a total classic," he says. Suddenly, he turns to face me, pretending to hold a microphone, and does the one thing I didn't expect him to do. "You can ring my bell, ring my bell—" Dean starts singing in the exact same exaggerated way he did five years ago. "The night is young and full of possibilities—" He points at me. "Come on, I know you know it."

I shake my head, keeping my arms crossed.

"Come on..." Dean insists.

I look towards the front and see the driver watching us with a smile. He seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the impromptu karaoke session Dean had started. I couldn't help but laugh.

"Well, come on and let yourself be free, yeah," I sing out. Dean claps, and the driver cheers with excitement.

I laugh again, but then the memories hit me. It was obvious that Dean would do something like this to make me forget everything that had happened. And here I was, letting him. I sigh and slip back into my indifferent posture, which Dean notices instantly.

"It was fun, wasn't it?"

"I guess."

Dean sighs. "You're never going to forgive me, are you?"

The radio volume drops slightly, and I know the driver did it to give Dean and me space to talk.

"I'm not answering that," I respond defensively.

"Fair enough," he sighs again. "I don't deserve it anyway."

After that, Dean falls silent. An Elton John song plays in the background, and as if things weren't dramatic enough, it's a melancholic one. I let out the breath I've been holding as I watch the lights of the buildings flash past. At one point, New York was my absolute favorite place. I never wanted to leave. I even used to argue with Mom about how long she'd let me stay whenever I visited Dad and Kat. But things had changed. I glance at Dean out of the corner of my eye, and my heart squeezes. Did it affect him as much as it did to me? Did his life change as drastically as mine? Without realizing it, I find myself checking him out from head to toe. He was still handsome—even more so now that he looked older and more mature. He was wearing a white turtleneck sweater, dark jeans, and a chain around his neck.

"Did it just start, or did it end?" I ask suddenly, catching him off guard.

"What?" he asks, confused.

"The party." Because it was obvious he had been partying. Friday night, late, in a taxi.

"Work, actually," he replies. "I haven't gone out partying in a while."

"Well, that's not what I remember," I murmur under my breath, but Dean manages to catch it.

"I'm not the same person I was five years ago" he answers. "Though there's no way you could know that, right?"

"Excuse me?"

"I haven't heard from you in five years. You completely cut yourself off from everything and everyone. If you had let me, I would have shown you how much I've changed."

I don't answer. Hearing him leaves me speechless. I had to admit that staying away from Dad and Kat for five years had been hard. But the house, the city—everything reminded me of Dean. It reminded me of how badly he hurt me. It wasn't easy for me, but clearly, it hadn't been easy for him either.

"I'm sorry," I murmur after a long silence.

"I know," Dean replies, turning to look at me. "Though really, I'm the one who's sorry. I'm sorry for everything"

I offer him a sad smile, and then we both fall into silence. Images of what we used to be play out in my head. Flashes of Dean holding my hand while walking through a park; Dean and me taking a photo in front of Times Square; Dean laughing with my dad after chatting in our backyard; Dean taking me to a hockey game. We were young—we still are—but back then, we had absolutely no idea what we were doing or how terribly wrong everything could go.

"Um, guys," the driver interrupts my thoughts. "I think I have some bad news."

Dean and I frown at the same time.

"What's wrong?"

"The car has run out of gas."

My eyes widen in surprise.

"What do you mean?" Dean asks, confused. "Did you forget to fill up the tank before picking us up?"

The guy shrugs slightly, looking embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I thought it would be enough, but I didn't think I'd be driving all the way East."

I press a hand to my forehead in disbelief. I look at Dean, who seems annoyed but at the same time seems to understand the situation.

"I'll pull over on one of these streets," the driver says. "The car can make it that far, but it's going to take some time to find someone to help us because of the holidays and all."

I sigh and check the time. It was 12:30 AM, and there was still no sign of Katherine. Biting my lower lip nervously, I watch as the car pulls into the parking lot of a convenience store.

"Alright, guys," the driver says. "I promise to give you a huge discount for the inconvenience."

"Don't worry about it," Dean replies.

The guy smiles and gets out of the car, leaving the two of us alone in the back seat. I look out at the street warily. I didn't recognize it, but it wasn't abandoned or anything like that. Quite the opposite. There was a pretty busy sidewalk full of bright neon signs and outdoor patios where people were drinking and chatting animatedly. I see Dean's eyes light up, and he turns to look at me instantly.

mermaid-sky-writes

Taxi (part two)

Maybe I might fall in love tonight inside the backseat, Maybe we could fall in love tonight inside the backseat

summary: you reunite with the love of your life inside the back of a taxi pairing: dean dilaurentis x reader content: lots of angst, romance, flashbacks, slightly suggestive at the end

inspiration: TAXI by EXES (preview of the song at the end of the story)

A/N: i hope you're liking the story so far!! This is a short story so I still have 3 more parts coming up :)

part one

"Dean," I said, frowning. "Where are we going? We can't just leave the taxi. What if he drives off without us?"

Dean laughed. "He won't leave, trust me. We haven't paid for the ride yet, remember?"

My eyes widened in surprise. "So now he’s going to think we ran off to skip the bill."

Dean laughed again. "No, darling. We’re coming back, and nobody is going to think we tried to rip off a taxi driver. Alright?"

I rolled my eyes but kept walking behind him down the sidewalk, which was packed with bars and tourist spots. My mind scrambled to unearth a vague memory of having been here before, but no matter how hard I tried, the place felt entirely new to me. Dean stopped abruptly, causing me to nearly slam into his back. I turned to look at him. His eyes were bright, and he was smiling like an idiot. Following his gaze, I spotted a small, somewhat empty, weathered bar.

"You're not seriously thinking of going in there, are you?"

"Who said anything about thinking?" Dean said. "I'm not thinking about it; I'm going in."

Dean pushed the door open, and I watched him, bewildered. Damn, all of this was so bizarre. First, sharing a taxi with him, and now going into a bar together.

"Good evening," Dean greeted. An older woman turned to look at him, and a smile instantly lit up her face.

"Well, look at you!" the woman exclaimed. "You're practically a grown man now!"

Dean laughed, while I stood there feeling completely out of the loop—until the woman's eyes locked onto me. Her jaw dropped. "Don't tell me... Is this your girlfriend? The one from back then?"

I shot a look at Dean, who appeared to be... blushing? I couldn't tell for sure, but he definitely looked embarrassed.

"I knew it," the woman said, pointing at us. "I knew it from the very first moment I saw you two walk through that door—that you guys would be forever."

I frowned and whipped around to face Dean, who was looking at me with a guilty expression. I didn't understand any of this; I was utterly lost.

"Why so quiet, sweetheart?" she asked.

"She doesn't remember this place," Dean answered with a shrug. "She hasn't been to the city in five years."

"Oh," the woman said, looking a bit awkward. "I see." She smiled. "Well, I'll leave you two to... reacquaint yourselves with the place."

The woman slipped away immediately, leaving Dean and me wrapped in a cloud of awkward tension. I took a seat next to him and placed my hands on the bar counter.

"Care to explain?"

Dean gave me a sad smile. "I can't believe you forgot," he sighed. "Do you really not recognize it?"

I shook my head and began to look around the small bar. There were vintage posters of singers and bands on the walls, alongside old vinyl records. There was a small stage with colored lights up top, and a few tables and chairs—some empty, others occupied by a stray patron here and there—but for the most part, the place was deserted.

"No... I don't think I've ever been here," I replied honestly.

"Well, that photo says otherwise," he said, pointing towards the back of the bar where the liquor bottles were lined up.

I froze. There was a photo of me alongside Dean, Katherine, and Tucker—Katherine's boyfriend at the time. The four of us were holding microphones, looking absolutely ridiculous. My eyes went wide, and I snapped my gaze back to Dean. "Oh my god!"

Dean laughed. "Now you remember?"

Of course I did. This was Dean's favorite bar. Our bar. How could I have forgotten? The layout was a bit different, but it was undeniably the exact place where we used to spend our afternoons laughing and singing horribly on the karaoke stage. But above all, this was the place where Dean and I had seen each other for the last time.

"I can't believe it," I said, laughing. "Is that woman Maggie?"

Dean nodded. God, that woman used to sneak us free beers even though we weren't of legal drinking age. And I hadn't even recognized her.

"Wow, now I feel terrible for not remembering her," I admitted.

Dean smiled. "Don't worry about it. The place has changed quite a bit, so I don't think Maggie will mind."

I looked around the room again in disbelief. I remembered afternoons spent listening to people attempt to sing, and drunks cracking jokes into the microphone. A wave of melancholy settled deep in my chest, and I felt a lump form in my throat.

"Why are we here, Dean?" I asked. He didn't seem surprised by the question.

"I thought maybe we could revisit old times."

"Dean..."

"I know," he said, wincing. "I'm really not trying to force a conversation about it. But I thought this might help."

I sighed. This felt like reopening an old wound, and I wasn't ready to face all that pain again. I should have gotten out of the taxi when I had the chance.

"Sometimes... I—" Dean started to say, but he was cut off by two glasses of beer being slid in front of us.

"On the house," Maggie said with a warm smile.

"Thank you," I said, grateful for both the beer and the interruption.

I could see Dean having an internal battle. I knew how badly he wanted to talk about us—about what happened. But I just wasn't ready. Still, looking at it from another perspective, Dean and I were actually getting along. There were no painful memories or open wounds right now. We were just two old friends hanging out. And looking at it that way made it feel a lot better than it actually was.

"Do you think..." I said suddenly, "do you think we could just hang out, without all the heavy drama, since we're already here?"

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Like old times?"

"Yeah, something like that," I said, shrugging.

Dean's face lit up. "Nothing would make me happier."

After that, I was able to relax for the first time since I’d been forced to share that taxi with him. We started talking about everything—from old memories to movie and TV show recommendations. It was always easy being around Dean; he never ran out of things to say. And his laugh was something I had always adored hearing, something I had missed for a very long time.

Four beers later, we were laughing hysterically, recalling the time Tucker and Dean tried to serenade Katherine, and my dad accidentally dumped a bucket of water on them.

"I used to think your dad hated us," Dean laughed.

"And look at you guys now, being best friends," I said, rolling my eyes.

"He's a great guy, what can I say?" He shrugged, still chuckling.

But when Dean stopped laughing and let out a soft sigh, I knew something serious was coming—and I knew I wasn't going to like it.

"I've missed you," he said abruptly.

"Yeah?" I asked, staring down at my nearly empty glass.

"You know I have," he answered, and I could feel the intensity of his gaze burning into me. "I never stopped missing you." He sighed. "When the first year passed, I thought you'd come back the next. I kept thinking that until three years went by, and I finally had to accept that you weren't coming back."

I bit my lower lip, unable to find the words to respond, so Dean kept going.

"I know you probably still hate me, but for some reason, you're here with me right now," he said. "So... thank you."

"For what?"

"For spending time with me," he said, "and for not breaking my jaw in the process."

His last comment cracked us both up.

By the time we had two more beers in our systems, I felt all my anger melt away somehow. I was smiling and talking comfortably with Dean, and I genuinely enjoyed being with him like this. I really had missed him. I would never admit it to him, but I had to confess to myself that not a single day had gone by where I hadn't thought about him.

"Damn," Dean said suddenly. "Do you hear that?"

I tilted my head, confused, until the melody began to play louder through the speakers.

"No way!" I laughed. "It's Ring My Bell!"

Dean nodded excitedly and stood up, extending his hand out to mine.

"What are you doing?" I asked, laughing. "Oh no, absolutely not. I am not going up there with you."

"Come on" he laughed. "Or are you going to make me embarrass myself all alone again?"

Feeling the alcohol buzzing through my veins, I stood up and took his hand. A sudden spark of electricity shot through my body, and I felt Dean tighten his grip on my hand, making me shiver from head to toe. I looked down at our intertwined fingers and couldn't help but smile.

"Good evening, everyone!" Dean spoke into the microphone, drawing the attention of the few people in the bar. He even woke up a man who had been fast asleep at his table. "We are completely drunk, and we're going to sing a little Anita Ward for you." When he said this, a few women laughed in the back. "What? Guys like Anita Ward too!"

I shook my head. Dean looked so incredibly happy and excited, though I wasn't sure if it was just him or the alcohol talking. Either way, he was having a blast, and so was I. Dean grabbed just one microphone and positioned it right between the two of us. I raised an eyebrow, and he flashed me an innocent smile.

"I'm glad you're home, now did you really miss me?" Dean began to sing, completely overacting.

I couldn't stop laughing, and I noticed we were starting to draw a crowd. Maggie had somehow opened the front doors of the bar, and passing pedestrians seemed amused by two drunk kids about to belt out an old track. Dean started dancing and clapping to the rhythm of the song, looking utterly foolish but adorable at the same time. When Dean pushed the microphone towards me, I tried to keep up with the lyrics, but I couldn't stop staring at him like a lovesick fool. He was being so classically Dean, and there I was, falling right back into his trap. Without us even noticing, the bar began to fill up. People were clapping enthusiastically; some were dancing, others were singing along. The place felt exactly like I remembered it. There were even some young tourists, excited to take the stage after us. I smiled, thrilled—and then, everything flipped.

As one of the stage lights flashed directly across my face, the memory hit me like a train. Katherine and I had been up on this very stage after Dean and Tucker dared us to do it. Dean had been acting strange the previous few days; it felt like he was looking for any excuse to keep me busy and push me away. But Katherine kept assuring me it was all in my head, that Dean loved me, and that he wasn't distancing himself at all. That was the exact reason the four of us were at Maggie's bar that night, about to sing a ridiculous ABBA song. Katherine was strutting across the stage like a supermodel while I just tried to stay in tune. And then it happened. A spotlight illuminated the back exit of the bar just as Dean and another girl walked out of the back room, holding hands. I remembered feeling my heart drop straight to the floor, telling Katherine I had to leave. I remembered walking outside and catching Dean kissing that girl in the alleyway right next to the bar. And I remembered how my heart shattered into a million pieces while Katherine and I took a silent taxi ride back home alone.

I dropped the microphone. It hit the floor with a thud, snapping Dean's attention to me. The smile vanished from his face the moment he looked at me. Without giving him a chance to say a word, I bolted off the stage and ran straight out the front door.

"Wait!" Dean yelled after me.

Ignoring his shouts and the curious stares from people on the street, I kept pushing away from the bar. Now I remembered everything. That was why I had buried every single memory of this place, and that was why I had fled New York five years ago, vowing never to return. I had been seventeen, deeply in love, and Dean was the first boy I had ever given my heart to—and he had broken it in the worst way possible. It had started with him partying almost every night of the week, ignoring me, making me feel like I had done something wrong, and it ended with him cheating on me and leaving me completely crushed.

"Hey, wait," Dean said, grabbing my hand.

That drove me over the edge. I yanked my arm out of his grip and slapped him hard across the cheek. When everything happened years ago, I hadn't had the courage to tell Dean how I felt or how badly he had ripped me apart. I had just walked away and never came back. But things were different now. I was a different person. And this time I was furious, and I wasn't going to bottle it up.

"Did you think that by bringing me to this damn bar, making me laugh, and singing that stupid song, I was just going to forget what you did?" I gasped out, completely out of breath from sprinting. We were now standing right where we had left the taxi. It was still idling there, though there was no sign of our driver.

"No," he replied, shaking his head. "But..."

"But what?!" I cut him off, a sharp pain piercing my chest. "I am not the same naive idiot I was five years ago. You are not going to brainwash me."

"Would you just listen to me? Please, just let me explain what happened that day."

"What is there to explain? That you were seeing someone behind my back? Someone who wanted to party 24/7 just like you did? What else do you possibly need to explain to me, Dean?"

"That is not what happened," he fired back instantly.

"That's exactly what I saw!" I yelled.

"What you saw didn't tell the whole story. What actually happened does. I didn't kiss that girl."

I closed my eyes, letting out a bitter laugh. "You have got to be kidding me."

"I didn't kiss her. She kissed me," he said, and I could see the sheer desperation and pleading in his eyes.

"I don't believe you."

"I know," he said softly. "Katherine didn't believe me at first either. Right after it happened, you... you shut down, and I couldn't even get you to talk to me before you packed up and went back to California."

Katherine knew about this? I shook my head. Why would Katherine keep something like that from me?

"You need to stop lying, Dean," I said, feeling tears pool in my eyes. "Don't you ever get tired of it?"

"I know it's impossible for you to believe that's how it went down," he said, "but that's the truth. I would have never done something like that to you."

"And yet, you did."

Dean fell silent, shoving his hands deep into his pants pockets. Confused, I watched as he pulled out a necklace and held it out in his open palms. I looked at it, my brows furrowing. It was my grandma's necklace, the one she gave to me a few years ago. Somebody stole it from me and I thought it was gone forever.

"That day, I went out to get you back your necklace," he said, looking down at the ground. "Tucker hooked me up with a guy who used to steal fine jewelry and after doing some digging and hanging out at the same parties he did, we found out he was the one who took your necklace" A heavy lump formed in my throat, but I forced it down. "I was supposed to meet the guy, but his girlfriend showed up instead. She insisted we do the handoff outside the bar because she could get into massive trouble if anyone saw her selling her boyfriend's stolen jewelry. I hesitated at first, but it seemed like the best option. Once we got outside, she told me the cash I had wasn't enough for the necklace, but that there were... other ways I could pay her off." He sighed deeply, putting his hands behind his head. "Sounds incredibly stupid, right? I wouldn't believe a piece of garbage story like that either."

I didn't answer. I could feel the tears spilling over and rolling down my cheeks. A part of me desperately wanted to believe him—he looked so utterly devastated that it felt impossible for him to be fabricating this. But another part of me reminded me that I shouldn't trust him again. I simply couldn't bring myself to believe it.

"I'm so sorry I hurt you," Dean said quietly. "But Kat and your dad aren't to blame. They really have missed you. If me being here in New York is what's bothering you, don't worry. I'm leaving on Monday."

I snapped my head up to look at him, stunned. He was leaving New York? Dean worshipped this city; he loved living here. And yet, he was willing to walk away from it.

"Can I... can I see it?" I blurted out, surprising both myself and Dean. I gestured towards the necklace with a nod. Dean nodded clumsily and handed it over.

I really thought I was never going to see this necklace again. It really meant a lot to me, and I remember being completely devastated when someone stole it at the park. I cried for days, but now it was here, and Dean made that possible.

Without a second thought, I looped the necklace around my neck. Dean stared at me in disbelief. His vivid blue eyes scanned every inch of my face, studying me intently, as if he wanted to memorize every single detail.

"Do you... do you need help with it?" Dean asked in a low whisper.

I nodded. My skin broke out into goosebumps the moment I felt his body step closer to mine. His warm fingers brushed against the bare skin of my neck, causing me to catch my breath. His breathing fanned against my sensitive skin, making me feel like I was losing my mind. I spun around on my heels so we were standing face-to-face. His eyes flicked from my eyes down to my lips, and I mirrored his gaze. God, I had missed him so much.

Without overthinking it, I did exactly what anyone else in my shoes would have done: I grabbed the collar of his sweater and pulled him down into a kiss. I could feel his initial shock, but it didn't take him long to match my rhythm. His lips moved gently and slowly at first, before shifting into something far more passionate and wild. We both began to stumble backwards until we hit the side of the taxi parked right behind us. Dean's body pressed firmly against mine, and I couldn't help but wrap my arms around his torso, pulling him even closer. Both of his hands came up to cup my face gently, as if he were terrified to let me go. The kiss deepened, intensifying until I finally pulled back, gasping for air.

Dean stared at me, completely dazed, his lips swollen and his breathing ragged. I watched as a flash of sadness crept back into his beautiful blue eyes, only for them to light up a second later when he saw me open the taxi's back door.

I slid inside, my nerves completely on edge. I lay back across the seat and looked up at him, waiting for his move. Dean blinked in surprise for a few seconds, but then he climbed into the car, pulling the door shut behind him and carefully hovering over me. With burning cheeks, I smiled and pulled his face down to mine, giving him absolutely no time to think or hesitate about us.