Enjoy!! Also, @Apple_A_Day and [@Jo4life], that fanart is AMAZING! You have no idea how happy it makes me to see Laurel and Dylan in art!!! 💚 ----------------------------------------------------------- Laurel gaped at him. Her dad had been part of the resistance? But her mother said it was just a rumor and a guise that had tainted their reputation. But that all made sense now. The threats, her dad going out after curfew, all of it added up. But… how did her dad tell Dylan about it? If it was such a secret mission, why wasn’t it kept quiet? Especially from a lieutenant under the administration?      “My dad told you about it?” She asked. Dylan nodded, his expression becoming reflective. “Yes. He did; I don’t know how he found out about my lack of faith in the administration, or how he had the courage to tell me, or how he did it without everyone else killing him and me.” Laurel furrowed her brow. “Everyone else?” She asked. “Dylan, this… this all is great and everything, but… it’s all sounding so fast and frazzled.” Dylan lowered his head, nodding. “I’m sorry, Laurel. Maybe someone else can explain this better than me.” Laurel cocked her head. Dylan finally looked up and gave her a smile.      “Laurel, someone else can explain to you everything; the secret society, the plans, all of that. Maybe after the meeting and provided all goes well, I’ll be able to say things without sounding like a psychotic maniac.” But as he said this, he frowned, and looked a little frightened. “What?” Laurel asked, worried. This was the strangest day ever, full of mixed emotions. Dylan frowned. “I could’ve just gotten myself into trouble with my real commander, among the resistance, that is; but that’s my fault. I’ll let him do the rest of the talking.” Not waiting for Laurel to ask another question, Dylan stood up and grabbed his satchel, slinging it over his shoulder.      “Come, and you will get some answers that others are more qualified in giving than me.”      Laurel followed him through the dark streets of the fifth district, her heart pounding and her mind full of facts and news that continued to confuse her. Dylan stopped suddenly and turned to face her, smiling a little cocky. “What?” Laurel asked, stepping closer so that she stood beside him. He grinned. “You said I was different. How so?” Laurel blushed and began to stammer. “I- I um, what- what I meant, I mean-" Dylan chuckled. “The Laurel Evergreen is tongue-tied.” Laurel finally got her thoughts straight. “What I meant, mister Dylan, was you seem different than the other leaders. I didn’t…” she trailed off, wondering if he would be offended. She glanced at him and his blue eyes were soft. Gentle. This is Dylan, she confirmed.      “You didn’t… what?” He asked, stopping again and turning to face her. Laurel swallowed. “I didn’t know if you were different, I just… I thought that maybe it was just because you were trying to talk to me.” Dylan smiled slightly, his expression never changing. “And what do you think now? Am I still unworthy of your trust?” He asked this teasingly, but his expression was a little pained. Laurel met his gaze. Her uncertainty began to melt away as she thought of everything. This was the first time anyone had treated and spoken to her with respect. He was different.      “No; you have my trust. And I hope you have mine,” she answered, smiling. Dylan looked shocked, then grinned as he studied her expression. “I’m glad, Laurel. It feels good to have a friend in all this.” Laurel grinned, a little cheekily. “Well, I still need to learn what ‘all this' is. Hopefully you know how to explain.” Dylan smiled and started to walk, motioning her to follow. “I think I have a few ways to do that,” he answered as he entered a tent.      Laurel followed him inside and found a fire pit with a pot hanging over it, a few tattered blankets, and a stack of wood against a wall. Laurel realized now that the tent was hanging against a stone building, which made sense as to why the one wall was stone. But she didn’t understand why there was a tarp across the one side. She gave Dylan a questioning look. His face was expressionless, but Laurel thought she saw a hint of worry.      Dylan spoke quietly. “Follow me through the tunnel, and once your inside, do not speak whatsoever. Wait until I give you a signal; I really do hope that this goes well.” Laurel felt her heart skip. “Can something go wrong?” She asked quietly. Dylan swallowed and nodded. “And I hope it doesn’t; otherwise I couldn’t live with myself.” Laurel didn’t understand what this statement meant, but it gave her a sense of peace. She looked at him, determination in her eyes. “It will be okay.” She answered. Dylan met her gaze and held it for a few seconds before nodding and, crouching in front of the canvas, pulled it aside to reveal a small tunnel.