Since Sebastian had left, leaving Dylan all alone, he had no choice but to load his luggage into the house by himself. By the time he was done, he was panting heavily, as sweat rolled down his face and neck.
His back ached badly, yet Sebastian wasn't in the living room despite his multiple trips back and forth. Feeling both stressed and exhausted, Dylan didn't bother to go up to his room for him. Seeking rest, he simply dropped onto the sofa, and he drifted off to sleep almost immediately.
Back inside Sebastian's room, he lay on his bed, deep in thought, completely still.
Am I truly homophobic? he pondered inwardly, his brows slightly furrowed as he sat there with his arms crossed.
It was a question he had asked himself several times before, and his answer had always been no. But in Dylan's case, he found himself hesitating, wondering why he had reacted the way he did and why Dylan would think that of him.
