Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Who Knew It Would Happen Like This?
Jump to three months later. Brendon still hadn't made up with his parents. He still hadn't moved back in and he was still living in that dump of a place that he liked to think of as an apartment. Or, well didn't like to think of as an apartment, but whatever.
I'd spent a few days with Brendon after the incident with my father but then retreated back home to make rapid apologies, hoping my father would forgive me because I knew I couldn't not beg for his forgiveness. No matter how much it always seemed like his fault, I always felt that it was mine.
My father had calmed down since that night; he seemed mellow, almost as if amnesia had over taken him. He seemed to have forgotten the majority of the night's events, of kicking me, of me running away, of every little thing he had said to me. But I remembered. Oh, did I remember. Even if I hadn't had so clearly remembered it all, that nasty purple-red bruising that had spread across my abdomen would be reminder enough. That was the same bruising that Brendon had tended to so carefully. Whenever I found my eyes wandering to the bruising I forced myself to remember Brendon, not what my father did. Remember how Brendon's fingers had felt, ghosting across my stomach. How they had been cold from holding the ice to my bruise. How his eyes searched mine for affirmation that I was all right, that he wasn't hurting me by trying to help me.
I sighed and leant back against the wall beside my bed. I didn't like to remember that night but it seemed like something that was so easy to do.
Suddenly there was a soft knocking on my door and the hushed voice of Brendon creeping in through the door. "Ryan, can I come in?"
Instead of answering him I got up, dropping the notepad and pen that had been occupying my hands onto the mattress and I wandered over to the door, turning the knob to allow Brendon entrance. As soon as he saw me a grin spread across his face.
"Hey Ryan." The smile was not just spread across his face, but it had seeped into his voice as well.
"Hey Brendon. Did my Dad let you in?" I asked. I knew that if my Dad had let Brendon in he would've been subjected to an interrogation as to why Brendon was here so late.
He shook his head, no. Actually, come to think of it, I only assumed that Brendon had come in through the front door. Maybe he hadn't, but he probably had. Brendon wasn't some sort of ninja teen; he didn't creep through windows metres off the ground that had no easy way to gain entry to. He only crept through Ryan's window.
"I know where you keep the spare key." He grinned mischievously, holding up the little silver piece of cut metal. The same little metal key that had previously resided underneath a loose plank on our front porch. Screw the regular `under the flower pot' hiding place. Even though where we hid the key wasn't the conventional hiding place, Brendon found it anyway. I wondered how long it had taken him to find it.
"Give me that." I said lightheartedly, snatching the key from his fingers. When I had it in my hand I deposited it onto my dresser, so it could be engulfed by the multitude of other objects that rested there. I reminded myself to put it back in its hiding place in the morning.
When I turned around Brendon was already halfway to my window. I sighed; Brendon wanted to go onto the roof, I could tell that much as soon as he arrived. The way he fidgeted with his hair and nails. The way his eyes had that glint in them. The way his smile suggested anything but pure good intentions.
He pulled the window open and glanced back at me. His gaze was urging me to follow, but that meant an extensively dangerous climb onto the roof, that always seemed to have me clinging to the roof tiles for my dear life, no matter how many times I'd made the climb before. Once I was on the roof it was all right, but the climb was what I hated.
I still hadn't moved but now Brendon was on the outer window ledge. All I could see of him were his jean-clad legs and vans, teetering slightly on the windows edge. "Ryan," he whispered loudly when he realized I wasn't coming, yet.
I made my way to the window and tapped him lightly on the leg, to tell him that I was going to follow him tonight. And make that dangerous climb onto the roof, to spend hours staring at the stars and to watch the sunrise. With Brendon.
We crept silently up the trellis, my feet slipping every now and again. My fingers were going numb from gripping so tightly and the cold night air had frozen my cheeks to numbness.
We made it onto the roof and sat down on the slope. Brendon laid back until his head was resting gently on the roof tiles. I did the same and folded my fingers tightly over my stomach, but not before pulling the sleeves down over my fingers so that the chilly air could not make them so cold that they bled.
Brendon and I stayed like that for what felt like hours, not speaking, just laying there staring up at the sky, glittered with stars. We didn't need to speak, the silence wasn't awkward, it was just right. Anyway, it felt good just to have Brendon lying next to me; to feel the warmth of his shoulder pressed up against mine as his body heat seeped through the fabric of my sweatshirt.
"Hey, Brendon..." I started in a quiet voice. There was a sudden burst of courage that had struck me. That burst of courage was urging me to ask Brendon a question that I should've probably asked him long ago, but I didn't for fear that it would decimate our friendship. I don't know why I thought it wouldn't now as much as it had then but I was going to take the chance tonight instead of pushing it to the back of my mind like I had so many other nights before.
"Mmmmhuh," he replied. Then his brain must've registered the cautious tone of my voice because he sat up and narrowed his eyes at me. "What is it Ry?" he asked carefully. His brain had jumped to a conclusion. Great. Now I only felt nervous and scared, that courage I was talking about, it was gone now.
I faltered. I didn't want to ask Brendon if there was something between us. Not when he was staring at me like he was. In the moonlight, the look looked like he thought I was about to tell him I'd gotten a girl pregnant and I needed him to bail me out because my parents wouldn't. I didn't know if that's what he assumed, but my mind created the insecure fantasy that, that's what he had.
"What Ryan?" He urged impatiently with raised eyebrows. He was expectant now.
"Nothing." I mumbled quietly, lowering my eyes from Brendon's face so I could avoid his confused gaze.
Suddenly I felt his warm breath on my cheek and his lips brushing lightly against mine. He was so close that I could smell the peppermint tinge on his breath and the smell of his hair, like strawberries. He was only millimeters away from me; his lips were still so close to mine that they were touching but only barely. He had tilted his head slightly to the side so as not to clash his nose against mine as he teased my lips with his own. His brown-eyed gaze was directed straight at mine.
"Would this have answered your question?" He whispered softly into my lips, causing his voice to come out slightly muffled. His breath warmed my lips and I could feel his lips moving faintly against mine as he spoke.
"How did you know what I was going to ask?" I whispered back quietly, still not pulling away from the intimate position we were engaged in.
I couldn't see it, but I felt his lips curve upwards into a smile before he spoke to answer again.
"Because I was going to ask you the same question."
That caused me to pull back slightly so I could study the complete expression on his face. He seemed dead serious. When I had pulled away a slight twinge of hurt ghosted over his expression but was gone so fast that I thought I had imagined it.
"Serious?" I asked, surprised.
"Serious." He replied back, pulling me closer to him once again.
This time our lips were only separate for the shortest amount of time before they met mine in a strong, desperate kiss. His arms were around me and I could feel the warmth of his body flooding through me. It felt as if his warmth was searing a scar into my skin, I surely thought that if I were to look, on my bare skin would be brands of Brendon's bodily outline.
I pulled away suddenly, but reluctantly.
"This didn't wreck our friendship did it?" I asked.
"No." He said. "If this is what wrecking a friendship feels like, then I'm asking myself why I didn't destroy our friendship sooner." He smiled and twisted his fingers with my own.
[A/N] I am so sorry that this has taken so long. I became unmotivated, and then the assessment period came up at school. Now assessment period is over and I had some spare time and inspiration tonight so here's another chapter. I hope it's enjoyable and that I didn't move too quickly. Anyway, please do read and review, whenever you do, you make my day. I'm off to bed now, it's late and my fingers are freezing cold and numb. I need a warm bed.
I'd spent a few days with Brendon after the incident with my father but then retreated back home to make rapid apologies, hoping my father would forgive me because I knew I couldn't not beg for his forgiveness. No matter how much it always seemed like his fault, I always felt that it was mine.
My father had calmed down since that night; he seemed mellow, almost as if amnesia had over taken him. He seemed to have forgotten the majority of the night's events, of kicking me, of me running away, of every little thing he had said to me. But I remembered. Oh, did I remember. Even if I hadn't had so clearly remembered it all, that nasty purple-red bruising that had spread across my abdomen would be reminder enough. That was the same bruising that Brendon had tended to so carefully. Whenever I found my eyes wandering to the bruising I forced myself to remember Brendon, not what my father did. Remember how Brendon's fingers had felt, ghosting across my stomach. How they had been cold from holding the ice to my bruise. How his eyes searched mine for affirmation that I was all right, that he wasn't hurting me by trying to help me.
I sighed and leant back against the wall beside my bed. I didn't like to remember that night but it seemed like something that was so easy to do.
Suddenly there was a soft knocking on my door and the hushed voice of Brendon creeping in through the door. "Ryan, can I come in?"
Instead of answering him I got up, dropping the notepad and pen that had been occupying my hands onto the mattress and I wandered over to the door, turning the knob to allow Brendon entrance. As soon as he saw me a grin spread across his face.
"Hey Ryan." The smile was not just spread across his face, but it had seeped into his voice as well.
"Hey Brendon. Did my Dad let you in?" I asked. I knew that if my Dad had let Brendon in he would've been subjected to an interrogation as to why Brendon was here so late.
He shook his head, no. Actually, come to think of it, I only assumed that Brendon had come in through the front door. Maybe he hadn't, but he probably had. Brendon wasn't some sort of ninja teen; he didn't creep through windows metres off the ground that had no easy way to gain entry to. He only crept through Ryan's window.
"I know where you keep the spare key." He grinned mischievously, holding up the little silver piece of cut metal. The same little metal key that had previously resided underneath a loose plank on our front porch. Screw the regular `under the flower pot' hiding place. Even though where we hid the key wasn't the conventional hiding place, Brendon found it anyway. I wondered how long it had taken him to find it.
"Give me that." I said lightheartedly, snatching the key from his fingers. When I had it in my hand I deposited it onto my dresser, so it could be engulfed by the multitude of other objects that rested there. I reminded myself to put it back in its hiding place in the morning.
When I turned around Brendon was already halfway to my window. I sighed; Brendon wanted to go onto the roof, I could tell that much as soon as he arrived. The way he fidgeted with his hair and nails. The way his eyes had that glint in them. The way his smile suggested anything but pure good intentions.
He pulled the window open and glanced back at me. His gaze was urging me to follow, but that meant an extensively dangerous climb onto the roof, that always seemed to have me clinging to the roof tiles for my dear life, no matter how many times I'd made the climb before. Once I was on the roof it was all right, but the climb was what I hated.
I still hadn't moved but now Brendon was on the outer window ledge. All I could see of him were his jean-clad legs and vans, teetering slightly on the windows edge. "Ryan," he whispered loudly when he realized I wasn't coming, yet.
I made my way to the window and tapped him lightly on the leg, to tell him that I was going to follow him tonight. And make that dangerous climb onto the roof, to spend hours staring at the stars and to watch the sunrise. With Brendon.
We crept silently up the trellis, my feet slipping every now and again. My fingers were going numb from gripping so tightly and the cold night air had frozen my cheeks to numbness.
We made it onto the roof and sat down on the slope. Brendon laid back until his head was resting gently on the roof tiles. I did the same and folded my fingers tightly over my stomach, but not before pulling the sleeves down over my fingers so that the chilly air could not make them so cold that they bled.
Brendon and I stayed like that for what felt like hours, not speaking, just laying there staring up at the sky, glittered with stars. We didn't need to speak, the silence wasn't awkward, it was just right. Anyway, it felt good just to have Brendon lying next to me; to feel the warmth of his shoulder pressed up against mine as his body heat seeped through the fabric of my sweatshirt.
"Hey, Brendon..." I started in a quiet voice. There was a sudden burst of courage that had struck me. That burst of courage was urging me to ask Brendon a question that I should've probably asked him long ago, but I didn't for fear that it would decimate our friendship. I don't know why I thought it wouldn't now as much as it had then but I was going to take the chance tonight instead of pushing it to the back of my mind like I had so many other nights before.
"Mmmmhuh," he replied. Then his brain must've registered the cautious tone of my voice because he sat up and narrowed his eyes at me. "What is it Ry?" he asked carefully. His brain had jumped to a conclusion. Great. Now I only felt nervous and scared, that courage I was talking about, it was gone now.
I faltered. I didn't want to ask Brendon if there was something between us. Not when he was staring at me like he was. In the moonlight, the look looked like he thought I was about to tell him I'd gotten a girl pregnant and I needed him to bail me out because my parents wouldn't. I didn't know if that's what he assumed, but my mind created the insecure fantasy that, that's what he had.
"What Ryan?" He urged impatiently with raised eyebrows. He was expectant now.
"Nothing." I mumbled quietly, lowering my eyes from Brendon's face so I could avoid his confused gaze.
Suddenly I felt his warm breath on my cheek and his lips brushing lightly against mine. He was so close that I could smell the peppermint tinge on his breath and the smell of his hair, like strawberries. He was only millimeters away from me; his lips were still so close to mine that they were touching but only barely. He had tilted his head slightly to the side so as not to clash his nose against mine as he teased my lips with his own. His brown-eyed gaze was directed straight at mine.
"Would this have answered your question?" He whispered softly into my lips, causing his voice to come out slightly muffled. His breath warmed my lips and I could feel his lips moving faintly against mine as he spoke.
"How did you know what I was going to ask?" I whispered back quietly, still not pulling away from the intimate position we were engaged in.
I couldn't see it, but I felt his lips curve upwards into a smile before he spoke to answer again.
"Because I was going to ask you the same question."
That caused me to pull back slightly so I could study the complete expression on his face. He seemed dead serious. When I had pulled away a slight twinge of hurt ghosted over his expression but was gone so fast that I thought I had imagined it.
"Serious?" I asked, surprised.
"Serious." He replied back, pulling me closer to him once again.
This time our lips were only separate for the shortest amount of time before they met mine in a strong, desperate kiss. His arms were around me and I could feel the warmth of his body flooding through me. It felt as if his warmth was searing a scar into my skin, I surely thought that if I were to look, on my bare skin would be brands of Brendon's bodily outline.
I pulled away suddenly, but reluctantly.
"This didn't wreck our friendship did it?" I asked.
"No." He said. "If this is what wrecking a friendship feels like, then I'm asking myself why I didn't destroy our friendship sooner." He smiled and twisted his fingers with my own.
[A/N] I am so sorry that this has taken so long. I became unmotivated, and then the assessment period came up at school. Now assessment period is over and I had some spare time and inspiration tonight so here's another chapter. I hope it's enjoyable and that I didn't move too quickly. Anyway, please do read and review, whenever you do, you make my day. I'm off to bed now, it's late and my fingers are freezing cold and numb. I need a warm bed.
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