Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Stolen

Let Me In

by IndiaGirl 0 reviews

Ryan probably shouldn't lock that bathroom door.

Category: Panic! At The Disco - Rating: G - Genres: Angst,Drama - Published: 2013-02-24 - 2174 words

I was just getting worse and worse. Hours passed and my heart beat was increasing, rapidly beating under my chest, threatening to burst out. I couldn’t do a thing.
I found myself in the bathtub, doused in freezing cold water, trying to calm myself. It wasn’t helping, and I kept slipping under the water – but I couldn’t do a thing, I couldn’t climb out of the tub, because I was trapped inside of myself.
Something was banging on the door, heavy fists and shouting, but I couldn’t make it out, because I was convinced it was my imagination. They sounded angry. The bangs were getting louder and I wanted to stop – if – if Brendon hadn’t just let go of me, if he hadn’t have hung up – I wouldn’t be here right now.
But Dallon forced him away.
I could hear the coldness in his voice, like – like he didn’t want to go. And he said he needed to see me – why couldn’t he just come and see me?
I turned over and sobbed. Now I wasn’t crying because of him, I was crying because I was scared and I physically couldn’t stop myself – I was panicking, I needed help, I was suffocating in my body, my lungs getting tighter and tighter, I wanted it to stop, I wanted it to stop-
“Ryan let me in!” Their was a voice now accompanying the bangs. “Let me in!”
I sobbed. “I can’t,”
“Ryan please,” The voice was gentle and soft – scared, and upset. But I couldn’t let them in whether I wanted to or not. Eventually the bangs were getting louder and louder, harsher – until I watched through blurry vision, as the door cracked on it’s hingers and opened, and a blurry outline came closer.
“Ryan,” The voice croaked, it’s hands reaching into the water and picking me up. “What happened, Ry?” He breathed, cradling me in warm arms.
“I’m s-scared,” I mumbled, clinging to their white, crisp shirt.
“I’ve got you, don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

My vision calmed and restored a little, and whoever it was was peeling off my wet shirt, picking up one of the shirts from the wardrobe and wrapping it around my shoulders.
“You’re okay, stop shaking lovely.” The voice cooed, brushing his hands through my hair to dry it. “You don’t deserve this, not one bit.” He sighed. “I’m just going to change your jeans, okay? And I’ve already – uh, seen you – um, naked, so uh..” He mumbled, unbuckling my jeans.
I was dead to whatever he was saying, I didn’t care if he was removing my jeans, because – well, whoever it was – they were doing something nice, and I needed to calm.
Once a new pair of boxers were placed around my sides (the carer did mention that he shut his eyes during that part), the hands moved and picked me up, cradling me.
“What happened, Ry?” My vision restored a little and I blinked, and squinted, trying to figure out – oh. “What happened? Please speak to me,” His voice was hoarse and upset, his fingers now trailing up my cheek.
“Brendon – I..” I mumbled, bursting into tears again. I was so fucking weak – I felt like I couldn’t go a few days without crying, without making myself a fool. Brendon.
Brendon immediately put his hand on the nape of my neck and brought me close.
“Hey, don’t cry,” He sighed, pushing our foreheads together. I was so close to him- so close to his lips – so close to those eyes. “Don’t cry, tell me what happened.”
Why was he suddenly being so – lovely?
“I’m getting kicked out of my apartment,” I sniffed. “I can’t afford it.. No one wants my records, no one wants my shitty music, no one wants me to play with them, no one wants me.”
Brendon’s eyes widened and he lifted me onto his lap, his fingers rubbing my shoulder blades and helping my breathing.
“I want you,” He said, gently, against my ear. “I want you.”
My entire body froze. He – wanted me? After all this – all this time? He wanted me?
He couldn’t possibly.. I mean – he was a married man. A perfect, gorgeous, married man – and he was saying he wanted me?
Why was I standing for this?
He hurt me so – playing with my feelings, kissing me and getting married, kissing me and running away, toying with my every emotion – so why did I let him?
Beecause I loved him.

“Ryan?” Brendon breathed, shaking me. “Ryan, don’t – go silent like that..”
I snapped out of my daze and looked up at him. “I can’t be your friend, Dallon doesn’t like me.” I sighed, softly. Brendon narrowed his gaze.
“I don’t want to be your friend – I want.. I want you.” Brendon sighed, ashamedly. “And I know I’ve been really stupid, and I – I got married and – If I were you I would just tell me to clear off..”
Tell him to clear off? How right he was. But now all these words were spilling past those lips, telling me the things I had been dying to hear for two years – these words that kept me hoping at night, the words which set my heart alight, words I was sure I would never hear outloud.
But here it was, happening right in front of my eyes.
“Then why get married?” I trembled, touching his cheek with the back of my hand.
Brendon sighed. “Dallon.. He.. Was always pressuring me.. My parents wanted me to get married, they were always disappointed when I said I was joining a band..” He dropped his gaze. “I guess it just took me a while to realise that I felt this way about you. I mean it was always sort of there – I thought – it was just a crush, and when I saw you with that – that guy..” He breathed in sharply. “I realised that.. I didn’t want anyone else to ever have you like that, but me.”
Had he just – poured his heart out to me? I blinked at him. This was too much information to process, too much, too much for my poor little brain to handle. Was this in my imagination? Would I wake up in a few minutes, still drenched in water, sobbing because my mind was cruel enough to do this to me?
Every fibre in my body wanted to stand up and scream at him, tell him – why mess me about? Why not tell me this when he first realised, before getting married to some guy who is horrible?
He was still gazing at me and I was just – staring back, my lips slightly parted, confused.
“W-why didn’t you just.. T-tell me?” I shivered, my hand cupping his cheek. Brendon sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes.
“I was stupid, okay? I know, I – I have no chance with you, I know, I just.. Thought I had to tell you.. People always say it’s better, to get it off your chest.” Brendon shrugged, weakly.
I stayed gazing up at him, my hand slipping down to touch the side of his neck and his jaw.
“I don’t think you’re stupid,” I responded, in a whisper. “I.. I have felt like this about you since I met you, Brendon,” I sniffed. “The amount of nights I cried because – because I could still smell your presence in my bed, or on my skin –or the nights where you’d come home drunk, and kiss me, and cuddle me – then next day rush off to date some other guy.. “
I watched whilst Brendon’s heart sunk.
“I’m so.. So sorry..” He mumbled, covering his eyes with his hand. “I had no idea you felt like this – I thought it was just me out there, on my own, blundering in love whilst you were with some other guy..”
“No,” I persisted, getting upset. “That guy – Dan – he’s- he’s great. I mean – I like him but.. Only in a friend way..” I paused. “We mainly just.. Um, you know, had sex and cuddled.”
Brendon frowned at his knees. “Why did you stop?”
I blushed bright red. Brendon narrowed his gaze at me.
“Could we also discuss what was happening when I came in?”
I hid my eyes. I really didn’t want to discuss one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. Not one bit.
“You were saying.. /My name/..”
“I know, and I can explain-“
“I do the same thing.”
We shared a moment of silence where we stared at each other and then we both laughed.

Brendon put a hand on the nape of my neck and cradled me upwards, pushing our lips together. I wrapped my arms around him, trying to cuddle as close as possible, enjoying the sweet taste that wasn’t drunken, that wasn’t apologetic – but was almost, entirely mine.
His hands ran through my damp hair and moved down my back, fingers digging into my waist. He pushed me back a tiny bit, carefully, lying me down on his side of the bed, and moving atop me. He pushed kisses to my neck and I tucked my arms around him, letting out small whispers and gentle hushes.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I whispered, digging my fingers into his lower back. “You’re not going to run away afterwards and leave me heartbroken..”
Brendon shook his head. “Not this time. Even if we have to sneak around a bit until I tell Dallon – I’m not leaving you, not ever.” He whispered, pressing our lips together. I nodded and hugged onto him, wrapping my legs around his waist. He tugged my shirt off my shoulders and threw it to the floor, doing the same quickly with his own clothes, getting down to just boxers on each of us.
He drew lines across my chest, across the scar on my stomach where I’d had my appendix removed, across the bruises from where Dallon had punched me – and he kissed along them, gently. I sat, almost shaking, my fingers digging into him and holding on in case suddenly – it was no longer going to be true. In case this was the last time.
He moved onto me and slipped my boxers away, and I did the same for him. And then I’d seen him. I’d seen him without the makeup and the clothes, clothes he didn’t really like – fake masks of happiness and sadness – I’d seen him. Seen him all vulnerable, naked, and in trust of me.
And as we started to move, I did find myself calling out the correct name.

Brendon’s hand touched my cheek, gently, leant on his side, like old times. Except this time I was completely enveloped in his arms, wrapped up in his scent.
“How did I go my life without this?” Brendon sighed, putting his hand on my cheek. I blushed and dipped my head, cuddling against his bare chest.
“I’ve just been waiting for you to say that.” I hummed, shutting my eyes and running lines with my finger on the back of his neck. I paused, gazing downwards at the sheets.
“What do you like about Dallon?” I asked, softly. Brendon shut his eyes and dropped his hand from my cheek.
“At first – he just, helped me. It was hard, discovering you like guys, and – he was there for me, and he was nice to me, and he helped me.. He listened to my music and.. He liked it.” Brendon paused. “But then.. After some time, he just.. Started getting nasty with me.”
“Nasty?” My fingers reached out to touch his cheek and I moved closer.
“Not like.. Hitting or anything – it’s just..” Brendon exhaled. “He’d be mean to my friends, you for an example.. And be mean when I tried to defend them. And he’d make fun of me when I’d say I didn’t want to have sex, call me a girl.. At the time I just – didn’t think anything of it, I mean, it hurt.. But he just told me it was an accident, itd never happen again.. But it always did.” Tears welled in Brendon’s eyes. “He used to get angry when I’d tell him we were friends. That I’d seen you. Sometimes I thought maybe he was going to punch me.”
I wrapped him up in my arms.
“You shouldn’t let anyone treat you like that,” I sighed, softly. “Brendon – all this time, I was there, trying to help you, willing to love you more than anyone possibly could..”
“Are you still willing?” Brendon whispered, gazing at me.
The corner of my mouth twitched.
“I’ll always be willing.”
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