For once Brendon was the one who'd said the wrong thing, said what he didn't mean, and Ryan meant to keep that upper hand - he really did - but that resolve quickly failed. Of course he knew and believed Brendon loved him, had all along. He wasn't the type to just sit around if he was wasting his time; he was fairly direct when he needed to be, especially when it concerned him being bored of a situation. And it'd qualify as wasting his time if he was just lying through his teeth for years, to make Ryan feel better or to avoid awkwardness or something. So, yeah, Ryan had pretty clear-cut knowledge on Brendon's feelings towards him: strong enough to keep him from running whenever they cuddled close for hours straight, so firm that even when Ryan was a total idiot (like now, actually) he stuck around, so blind that he could ignore all the qualities that normally drove people away. He didn't have any doubt in Brendon's affections at all, but he was looking for any chink in the armor at all to stab at. That one was pretty much off-limits, though, he quickly realized.

[i]What the f-[/i] Ryan took that moment's pause to register panic. His indignant countenance disappeared, guard coming down as he prepared to take it all back. [i]What the fuck did you just say?[/i] His stance loosened and he looked to the floor, nervous. [b]"All right, low blow,"[/b] he admitted of himself, not even totally audible to himself. He gripped either arm in a cross over his chest, suddenly very conscious of his lankiness and general physical existence, and he kind of wanted to disappear. He didn't have the energy to continue arguments for this long. The tension from their conflicts lasted a long time but they usually only exchanged a few stupid short-sighted words. This had already reached the usual limit and now was beginning to exceed it - as a matter of fact, Ryan was kind of worried that his impulse reaction had kind of fucked them up for a long time coming. "Worried" may even be an understatement in itsel

Brendon recoiled and Ryan stepped back too, as if Brendon had actually asked for some space. [i]Jesus Christ. Fuck off.[/i] Still aggressive despite definitely not actively wanting to be anymore, Ryan threw out a last attack, then it was all gone. He wanted it to be over. Brendon could probably say anything and he wouldn't get any more angry than he had been, like the peak had been reached and it was all downhill from here. Actually, all he could think about was his certainty for how Brendon felt about him now. It was his own fault for trying that weak attack earlier, accusing Brendon of not loving him on the same level he did Brendon just because of a simple jab at his writing, and now he was totally on a different page. Not to mention inappropriate. Here he was thinking about how in love they were while 1. they discussed splitting up from their lover-led band and 2. they got gradually more pissed at each other talking about the reasons for/against said split. Ryan felt like the biggest dumbass in the world. Probably true.

[i]Fuck off, Ryan. You can’t just say that to me and expect me to forget it. We’re fucking adults now, we’re not in high school anymore.[/i] Ryan pursed his lips, staring across the room, still feeling stringy and uncomfortable and intrusive. He tried to stay still, knowing full well his body language was painfully transparent even when the rest of him was so unlike that. [b]"Okay,"[/b] he said simply, and his voice was completely different, like the fight was over. It wasn't, he was pretty sure of that, or it wasn't unless Brendon was suddenly okay with Ryan saying 1,000 shitty things in the span of one minutes. He was supposed to be saying sorry, but his mind was still in seven different places, and the most important happened to be something Brendon had said just a few moments ago - definitely nowhere near an apology yet. His voice was quiet when he continued, not confrontational but more curiousity, concern. [b]"You can't say the songs about you getting fucked up are happy for a reason and expect me to forget it, either."[/b] He wasn't expecting a response. He just didn't want those words to float in the air anymore - addressing them seemed to send them not quite [i]out[/i] of mind, but to the back of his busy head.

Ryan stood there stupidly another couple of seconds before going on, reserved. [b]"Is that part of it? Part of why you want to split up, I mean. So you can write that, without..."[/b] He trailed off, unsure how to put it. Well, he knew exactly how, and he could probably write the real question on a sticky note - [i]so you can write those songs without people who care being there watching you[/i] - but out loud was a different, more hurtful story. [b]"...without us caring, I guess."[/b] He was pretty sure it probably wasn't a huge part of the breakup at all, or maybe it was, whatever. Either way he needed Brendon to know he'd likely always get a little emotional over those kinds of songs. [b]"Whether I'm in the creation process with you or not, I'm gonna care, you know. When the lyrics about clubbing and drinking still sound wistful... I mean... nothing's going to change."[/b] This was all he could really give input about. Them 'going in different creative directions' - that was something he had no control over.