[OOC: Figure we should end this, we'll talk about further plot on AIM?]
Dylan's eyes lit up at Taryn's hesitancy. She was an adult, realistically she could stay. Could Dylan be the one to convince her? He started thinking intently about how he could go about it. His first though, which terrified him, was to convince her to marry him. As much as it terrified him, it was a little appetizing. But definitely too far, he needed to think smaller. Why did women stay in random countries with men they had just met? He'd need to convince her he was committed, and... in... love, with her. Or maybe he could just get her pregnant? But that probably wouldn't fly, and he'd have to connive his way into her pants as well.
Dylan blinked and came out of his trance. What the hell was he thinking? Considering marrying this girl? This was getting crazy.
Suddenly fear came over Dylan. What if they got drunk together and did get married? He was beginning to notice that when he got to looking at Taryn, weird thoughts and ideas came over him. He wasn't committed, he didn't want to get married, and he sure as hell didn't want to a kid. But he was still considering all these ideas, and that scared him.
Feeling a vibration in his pocket, Dylan struggled to pull out his phone. As he read a text, his eyes widened. "Fuck," he mumbled. As he threw his drink back, Dylan pulled out his wallet. Tossing $60 on the table, he stood up quickly. "Look, I know this is rude and uncalled for, but I really have to go. Please, please, let me make it up to you. Come by the shop tomorrow we can make plans for the evening?" Dylan's voice was pleading and obviously concerned. He wasn't about to tell her exactly why he had to go, but he seriously hoped she'd come by. Walking towards her, Dylan quickly leaned down and kissed her lips before she probably even realized it. Turning swiftly, Dylan left.