Though Brendon was, for the most part, happy with the fact that Ryan was still the chief lyricist, and he greatly admired his talent, he did sort of want some creative input. Singing was all well and good, but it wasn’t especially inventive; he had things he wanted to say, maybe not as profound or as complex as Ryan’s subject matter, but he wanted to say them all the same. So, while Ryan and Jon had worked on other things, Brendon often didn’t get involved with their little song projects, and instead excused himself to work on random lyrics of his own. So far, he didn’t have a full song, just fragments of verses, words and phrases he wanted to use, people and emotions and inspirations and everything he wanted to fit into a period of three minutes, average. Brendon didn’t know how Ryan did it- fit so much into such a short period of time. Sometimes, he considered just talking to him about it, asking him for some advice, maybe, but Brendon was kind of too proud for his own good, and besides, some of the things- and people- he wanted to write about was sort of embarrassing if the wrong person found out. So, he soldiered on, finding peace by himself when he could.

This was one of those rare moments of stillness. Brendon was, in a sense, a live wire, burning with energy and passion and a sense of urgency. When he was subdued, mellow, tranquil, it was strange, almost alien, though at the same time he seemed part of the landscape, matching it for its dynamics and drama. At this moment, his feet were crunching in the pebbles, his hair was stirred by the breeze, his skin adorned with tiny raindrops, hunched over slightly to protect his notebook from the drizzle. It wasn’t like he could have stayed like that for very long- he had too much energy to stay still for long periods of time- but since he was absorbed in his work at that moment, if Ryan hadn’t have interrupted, he probably would have finished. Instead, he closed the notebook, having finished on the lines [i]i’m not complaining that it’s raining, i’m just saying that i’d like it a lot more than you think if the sun would come out and sing with me.[/i] He wasn’t sure what would become of it- but he had a title. 

Brendon put it out of sight and mind for the moment and turned his attentions to what he considered more important- Ryan, who greeted him with a half-smile and a rather dry ‘Hey’. Amused, he raised an eyebrow, and fanned his hand out towards the lake. [b]“Need some water?”[/b] When Ryan sat beside him, he automatically moved a little closer, inclining his head to pay full attention. [i]I’m alright. Glad I found you- I’ve been playing the same chord for an hour trying to get it right.[/i] He laughed a little, tipping his head back thoughtfully. [b]“An hour you could have spent out here with me. I mean- If you wouldn’t- Never mind.”[/b] Dismissively, sheepishly, he shrugged his shoulders, and raised his head again, reaching to adjust his glasses slightly. He couldn’t see out of them very well right now anyway, so he gave up and took them off, wiping them half-heartedly on his shirt. 

His attention was drawn by Ryan’s hand clenching around a pebble, and his face betrayed nothing except mild curiosity. [i]You do, too, Brendon.[/i] He heard the pebble skip and then splash, but he was looking at Ryan, feeling suddenly like he was too close and way too far away at the same time. [i]You always do.[/i] A faint smile threatened to break his neutral expression, just as the sun’s evening rays broke through the trees as it set. He gave in quickly, but looked down at his feet. [i]Not sick of us already, are you?[/i] Brendon thanked God that Ryan, in that instance, was a little better at carrying on conversation. Brendon was sort of flustered, because his heart was aching for some reason and he wondered whether the reason for that was sat beside him. [b]“Nah.”[/b] He paused, suddenly doubtful. [b]“Okay, so maybe Spencer and Jon. Don’t tell them. I haven’t- I don’t think I could get sick of you. I don’t think I will any time soon.”[/b] 

Brendon’s voice was soft and gentle, and with those words in the air, he still refused to look Ryan in the eyes (they were honey-coloured and made his heart flutter ridiculously in a way he thought didn’t actually happen). Instead, he moved even closer, and tilted his head to rest it comfortably on his bandmate’s shoulder, the height difference just enough so it was pretty much perfect. His glasses were hooked into the neckline of his shirt, and he exhaled gently, looking out at the horizon. [b]“I was writing just now.”[/b]