To say he's pissed is an understatement. Last night wasn't at all what he had planned. When he got to the house he was going to order her favorite food, sit down watch some Netflix with her and get to know her better. Instead, he came home to a full blown party going on in his house. He wanted to scream, to tell everyone to get the fuck out and fuck up whoever decided to throw the party without his permission. Rather than acting on his rage, he handled the situation without bloodshed.

Sighing, Dylan takes Rosaline's hand in his and begins to walk towards the house, the music getting louder and louder, until he get into the house and it's so loud Dylan's surprised everyone in the party isn't deaf. He begins to squeeze through the crowd, hating the way, sweaty bodies and drunk people surround him. He was so distracted by his surrounding that it's not until he gets to a spot where the crowd thins out, that he realizes Rosaline isn't with him. Panic fills him and he wildly looks around. O shit. Anything could happen. She could run away, she could get lost, she could get drunk, or worse...get raped. Dylan puts his hands around his mouth and begins to call out her name.

"Rosaline."

"ROSALINE."

He knows that the music is too loud, and that the only person who'd hear him was the people next to him, but he's desperate. He's about to dive into the crowed when a hand claps onto his shoulder. He spins around to see his 'friend' Arnold, smiling at him. "Hey man, you like the party I threw. Congrats, by the way on closing the deal with the gaming company." Dylan heard him, but was too far in his head to reply, He should've known it was Arnold who threw the party. He's the only person who throws Dylan parties in his house randomly, not bothering to even ask first. Usually, he'd suck it up and go with it, but not tonight. Not when Rosaline was lost, in a crowd, surrounded by strangers all because Arnold decided to throw a fucking party. Filled with anger, Dylan grabs Arnold by the collar and brings him face to face, before putting his mouth near his ear. "You're going to go to the DJ and cut off this music, and then you're going to get everyone out of my goddammed house, before I kill you where you stand." With that, Dylan drops him and begins to search for Rosaline.

Not even 5 minutes, later Dylan can't find Rosaline and he begins to get frustrated and almost crumbles from the worry weighing down on his shoulders. Feeling defeated Dylan stumbles into the kitchen. Why can't he find her? "Stop," a voice slurs. Dylan turns his attention to see the slurred voice belongs to Rosaline. She's drunk, and to make matters worse there's a man two times her age pressing her against the wall, hand up her shirt. Dylan honestly doesn't remember what happened next. One moment he was standing in the entrance of the kitchen, the next he was straddling a man that looks as if he was clinging on to life.

"Dylan, STOP!" He turns his head to see Rosaline, with tears streaming down her face. Dylan frowns. Why is she crying? "Rosaline," he whispers. Rosaline sobs and then collapses. Before, she can reach the ground Dylan swoops in and scoops her up into his arms. He looks down at his girl, before looking around. The music has stopped and people are starting to be cleared out. Arnold is making a beeline for them. Anger fills Dylan. He almost got his girl raped. "Dylan, h- Call Michael," Dylan interrupts. "And tell him to clean this piece of shit up." With that Dylan exits the house, gets into his car, drives to his other house.

Okay, maybe he hasn't handled the situation the best possible way, but he didn't kill anyone. Though if he did...he wouldn't have felt the slightest bit guilty. After he entered his second home he had a maid change Rosaline and showered before, throwing on some pajama pants-much to his dismay- and got into bed with her. Yes, sleeping with her might not of been the best decision, but Dylan had to for a piece of mine. He had to know she was okay. He didn't get much sleep though, which is why he knew the moment Rosaline woke up.

He didn't let her know, he was awake, only because he knew she would panic. Although, he didn't count on her falling out of bed and from the sound of it, probably bruised something. Again, he didn't let her know that he was awake, because he doesn't want to scare her. He hears Rosaline groan and feels his lips twitch, wanting to ask if she was okay. Instead, he keeps still and makes sure his breathing is slow and even. He keeps listening, his picking up clicking against the magnolia floors- most likely her cast- and he emits a fake groan. The clicking stops and he resists the urge to smile and laugh. Deciding that, that was enough of fake sleeping Dylan sits up and sighs, before rubbing his eyes. He stops rubbing his eyes and looks at Rosaline and once again has to hold in a laugh. Dressed in a silk white nightgown -thanks to his head maid- and looking as beautiful as every Dylan decides Rosaline would have look every bit of angel, if it wasn't for her shocked expression with the open jaw. "Really, I slept with Dylan," she whispers and Dylan can't help but feel slightly offended.

"And that's a bad thing," he asks with a smile, and Rosaline jumps, causing Dylan to go with the conclusion that she didn't mean to say that out loud. Cute. Rosaline clears her throat and give Dylan a glare that didn't scare him one bit, though it did cause him to feel amusement. "Yes, it is," she barks. The tone of her voice results in his amusement being dampened by anger at her tone. "Why were you sleeping with me and what the hell happened last night?" Amusement completely gone and anger making itself known. Who the fuck does this little girl think she's talking to? "Well, Rosaline let me explain something," Dylan says, his voice stern. "You went off on your own like an idiot, got yourself drunk and almost got yourself raped." Just the memory of last night has his blood boiling. He watches as Rosaline pales, confirming the fact that she didn't remember anything from last night. To his surprise and frustration, Rosaline rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest. His eyes glance down at her breast, before bouncing back up to her face. He couldn't resist and couldn't feel one bit of shame. "Well then, since I almost got raped, why don't you fix me breakfast, since it is your fault." Once the sentence leaves Rosaline's lips, shame and guilt crush him. It was his fault. If he hadn't let her inside, hell if he hadn't begged Jared to let her go with him, she wouldn't have almost been raped.

"Dylan I-." Dylan's cell rang on the bedside table and reflexively he snatches the phone from the bedside table and presses it to his ear, answering it.

"Yes?"

"I cleaned up the mess, but haven't gotten rid of him. What would you like us to do?" Dylan's makes his face blank and looks over at Rosaline who's staring at him.

"Give me your coordinates and I'll be right there."

He doesn't wait for an answer, hanging up before walking to Rosaline. She takes a step back from him, but that doesn't cease his movements. He plants a kiss on her forehead and walks out the door and out the house, but not before giving his head maid orders to look over Rosaline. Right now, he had to take care of some business.