[I]The next time you try to undress me with your eyes, give me a shout and I’ll make your life easier.[/i] Ryan’s breath stopped in his throat and he wondered how to take that one; Brendon was, after all, much quicker than him, and Ryan learned much more witty about it. Not shocking, considering he heard these quips practically every day of his life, but still - hearing them in practice and directed at him was very new. Not bad, though, Ryan discovered; he didn’t have a problem with it at all. It was just the fact that the only response he could muster was beyond weak, both in content and intonation. [b]”I’ll keep it in mind,”[/b] he murmured quietly, trying not to let his voice betray him, and felt distantly that he should be saying things to dodge implications. Like, ‘no thanks, Bren, don’t need to see that,’ or something else friends would realistically say to one another. Too late for that, though.

Even worse, he continued with their back-and-forth, and was delighted by Brendon’s reaction. That sort of smile was rare from Brendon but possibly even more endearing than the usual and Ryan realised he was [i]definitely[/i] in way too deep. He made a secret promise to himself that he’d try to get that out of Brendon more often. [i]Enlighten me.[/i] Perfect opportunity. Ryan’s loop around his side grew tighter for half a second while he considered - like he really needed a reminder he was there - but Brendon backed out. [i]Actually, no. My ego is already too inflated. I hardly fit in the cabin anymore.[/i] Ryan had honestly never been disappointed that he wasn’t complimenting somebody before, and considered just going on spilling every little thing he appreciated about Brendon anyway, but that’d likely be crossing the line that he’d already trampled over and blurred for himself. He kept it to himself but turned a meaningful look Brendon’s way for a moment, uncharacteristically calm given the circumstances.

At the mention of Brendon’s song - and the honor of him asking for Ryan’s advice of all people - Ryan had to put things in perspective to answer honestly, consider all his earliest writings. Some songs off the first album were virtually conceptually the same, painting pictures of similar color but different content, if one looked past the diction and into the stories behind them. Like [i]But It’s Better If You Do[/i] and [i]Lying[/i], arguably even [i]Build God[/i]. Some were fairly obvious despite how secretive and vague Ryan tried to be. They were both themed in a hospital setting, him the ‘kid in a fight/with no fight’ and some other mystery figure a repeated offender for emergency services. He did indeed begin writing one song originally before it branched into another, evident in the similarity between verses and not just setting: [i]you've earned a place atop the ICU's hall of fame[/i] opposed to [i]...on first name basis with all the top physicians.[/i] 

He himself wasn’t confident in his abilities sometimes, and even more than that wasn’t confident in his own advice, so maybe he should’ve let Brendon work out a methodology on his own, but. If he wanted a starting point, there was one. [i]Haven’t heard it yet, don’t get your hopes up.[/i] Little late. His hopes were always up with Brendon; he was never disappointed. He saw the doubt crossing Brendon’s features when he asked to see the work completed thus far, then the consideration, and couldn’t hold back a grateful smile at such a display of trust when Brendon broke away to retrieve his notebook. It probably looked like nothing to someone who hadn’t written this way before - in most cases, songwriting was someone spilling the contents of their soul onto a page, a completely vulnerable endeavor, and it never felt perfect enough to share. Ryan was glad he could break through that layer of insecurity. Although he did miss their original positioning, he took the journal carefully, keeping his fingers along the edges of the page as if he was risking ruining a hundred year old book. Dramatic, really.

The glasses joke had run its course but he could see through them pretty well anyway - shit, maybe he should see an optometrist - so he read through the broken pieces of what Brendon had thus far. They were written at different intervals, obviously, the penmanship more careful or more scraggly or more heavy in different places. More importantly the content already sounded like the beginnings of a very successful song, heartwarming in a way Ryan found difficult to capture. There was a complete beginning, from the words [i]You remind me of a former love that I once knew[/i] to [i]it’s fine with me, I'm just taking in the scenery[/i], then ideas scattered around the page and incomplete verses waiting for the right words. [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] Ryan found that he wore the faintest smile, and suddenly these felt even more personal than lyrics, like Brendon entrusted him with his normal thoughts. He took another moment to wonder at the beginnings of the chorus, analyzing it all already, and realized belatedly that he was getting ahead of himself. 

[b]”Brendon,”[/b] he finally said in a small voice, looking up again. [b]”This is amazing. I can’t believe you were so worried about it, I mean...”[/b] He stopped himself from going on a ‘from an English major dropout standpoint’ lyrical analysis tangent and instead offered the journal back to Brendon. He felt basically the same as when he first handed the mic over, all shocked and impressed and inspired, though this didn’t come as huge a surprise as that now that he knew Brendon. [b]”It’s beautiful. I can hear you in the words already.”[/b]