"What?" Ellie asked.

"Ugh, yeah, um, that's...awkward," Dylan stammered, looking at anywhere but Ellie.

This is not how this was supposed to happen. I was supposed to tell her how beautiful she is to me; how everything about her makes me want to jump all day and all night like a kangaroo, because she makes me feel on fire; how I'd listen to her telling me bedtime stories every single night because of her beautiful voice; how she makes me feel completely different – not this.

And in that moment, Dylan hated himself for being a dumbass.

"What?" Ellie repeated, looking at him. Confusion was written all over her face.

"Listen," he finally breathed out, "you're beautiful. Like, really beautiful. I know I've barely known you for three weeks, but now I can't imagine how this day would look like – I can't imagine doing anything else but being here with you, Ellie. You just...make things seem right. You're really special to me, and I just wanted you to know that.

And it's totally okay if you don't feel that way – you don't have to. I just wanted to know that you're really beautiful and you should become an actress and whatever you want, because you deserve it. I'll be proud to say one day I had a chance to meet you before you were famous."

A silence fell between two teens, neither of them knowing what to say – or at least, Dylan didn't know what to say. It was extremely awkward for him. Honestly, he didn't even think about himself at that point. All he actually cared about was that Ellie didn't feel bad or awkward or insecure or sad or disappointed or – shut up.

He was feeling really weird – a part of him wished he'd never told her, or let alone gotten himself into this situation; a part of him wanted to hug her and tell her he's completely fine with her not feeling the same; a part of him wanted to smile like an idiot, because saying this out loud felt much better than he thought; a part of him just wanted to apologize for making her feel embarrassed, or whatever she was feeling like right now.

But he couldn't do anything – instead, he ended up biting his lip and looking at her, only partly expecting her to say something. It took him some time to process what he'd just heard her saying, because he was too much wrapped up in his own bubble. Hell, he wasn't even sure he heard her right.

"Huh?" he awkwardly breathed out, "Sorry, I didn't really hear you..."

Ellie smiled, nodding her head. "I said it's okay, because I like you too."

Yep, he heard it right – although even now he couldn't believe those words actually came from her. It seemed so weird, having a crush on someone for a while and them actually liking you back. Yes, he's had girlfriends, but everything with Ellie felt different. Perhaps it was because she was something unordinary, being Canadian, having a really interesting personality and pure fact he'd met her by coincidence, really. Twice coincidentally, one time he followed her and one time he messaged her back.

"You kidding me?" he couldn't help but be suspicious over this – so many girls told him he's perfect and that they love him, that he needed to make sure Ellie had a valid reason for liking him, not just because he portrayed her favourite character on her favourite TV show – hell, Liam wasn't even her first favourite character, but second.

But the blonde shook her head, smiling. "No. Why would I?"

Dylan's smile became relaxed as he realized she actually wasn't kidding. "And that's not just because I'm an actor, right?"

"No," Ellie said, ending the reply with a question mark, her smile fading.

"Or because of my looks?"

"Dylan, what are you talking about?" Her smile had completely faded, and she was looking at him in confusion, narrowing her eyes at him. "Why would I like you only for looks, or because you're an actor, for goodness' sakes?!"

I came out to have a good time, and I'm honestly feeling so attacked right now, was the first thought in Dylan's brain. He literally had to restrain himself from actually saying it. If there was something that he was supposed to say, that sentence was everything opposite.

He breathed out, realizing how stupid he was. Hadn't he already realized that everything about Ellie was different? And maybe she was a fangirl, but that didn't define her as a person. He knew she could like him for who his is, not who he portrays or his money and fame. He knew she wasn't like that. But then again, in the world where everyone could betray you because of money and fame, almost everything was possible. There was always this small fear of people liking your reputation and not you, and perhaps that's what he was thinking about when he said that.

But he didn't have to worry about that, he knew. Ellie would never do that. Ellie was different. Ellie was perfect.

"Sorry, seriously. I'm just used to being afraid of people liking my reputation, not me," he awkwardly replied; frankly, he had no damn idea what he was talking about. He wasn't even smiling anymore.

Just for a second, a hurt expression flashed over Ellie's face – but he managed to hide it. "What? Dylan, I'm not like that! I thought – Jesus Christ! I thought we were over that! Everything was damn perfect, and then – we were finally equal, you know, no fangirl and no actor, we were two freaking teens! And of course you'd ruin it! I'm not – how could you even think that, Dylan?! I'd never –"

"Shh," Dylan whispered as he pressed a finger against Ellie's lips. She huffed, but stoped talking nevertheless. "What I said was wrong. We did get over that, I'm sorry. I know you're not like that, don't worry. Seriously, I'm sorry."

Ellie smiled, and nodded. "It's okay. I overreacted a bit, too." She chuckled, shrugging.

"A bit?" Dylan teased, grinning at the blonde.

"Oh come on!" She playfully punched his shoulder, both of them laughing. It was nice, Dylan thought, to have finally set his feelings on the table, and having her knowing them. But he wanted them to talk about what they felt towards each other, not leaving their confessions hanging in the air. Ellie, on the other side – well, to Dylan, it seemed as if that didn't matter even one bit.

Maybe it didn't, really.