Shane might’ve been manipulative, but Brendon, though more vulnerable than he dared to show, wasn’t a complete pushover, and he has wilful, and stubborn. If he didn’t want something to happen, or didn’t like something that somebody had said, he’d usually make a show of confronting the situation and forcefully correcting it as he saw fit. With Shane, he was inexperienced when it came to supposedly committed relationships, but he wasn’t completely naive. He knew roughly what was acceptable and what was not, but the lines were blurred- not solid or clear enough for Brendon to really argue against questionable things that Shane did or said or even care about it when he did. Brendon [i]knew[/i] that Shane was a dick, he knew he wasn’t a good guy- he was just [i]there,[/i] and he was attractive, and he was overwhelmingly sweet when he wanted to be to the point where it was sickly, and above all, Brendon could kid himself into thinking he had a proper, stable relationship like people were always bugging him to get. Everyone thought Brendon needed someone to control him, to change him, apparently for the better. Brendon subconsciously hated it the entire time- the feeling of entrapment with someone he didn’t even really like.

That sense of ensnarement terrified him- what if it was like that with everybody, no matter if he liked them or not- but the more he thought about it, the less daunting it became; but only, he realised, if the hypothetical relationship was with Ryan, someone who was- or had been- smitten with him, genuinely liked and respected him as a person, seen him as a human being and not a pretty, useless rich boy with a high calibre surname and an endless host of ridiculously expensive suits. Ryan was sweet, and hesitant, and intelligent, and nervous, and careful, and pretty; he was eloquent (on occasions, and usually lyrically, not verbally), dry, and gentle, and somewhat endearingly pretentious, and Brendon had recently arrived at the hasty but sure conclusion that it was Ryan who was his match, the perfect template for a potential better half (even if that was an unhealthy way of looking at it). And he’d made all decisions in the past few hours without considering that maybe Ryan didn’t feel the same way, or want to pursue anything as suddenly as Brendon did.

So, when he made his melodramatic but anxious confession, and he wasn’t immediately greeted by an expression of joy or exclamations of agreement, Brendon felt his back raise and started internally building defences, shielding himself while grasping onto hope that this was just surprise. He looked stunned, so Brendon just sat quietly for a moment, with enough sense to allow it to process, before he began to speak again, still hushed and hasty and stumbling over his words, brain working faster than he could speak to express his thoughts properly. Once he finished, for now, anyway, he looked at Ryan hopefully, willing him to say [i]something,[/i] anything. Actually, no, he took that back- if it wasn’t good news, he didn’t want to hear it, and he could very maturely pretend this never happened. [i]Brendon...[/i] He hadn’t heard Ryan say his name in what felt like forever, and his chest tightened when he realised exactly what was at stake here. [b]”Yeah,”[/b] He murmured quietly, acknowledgment more than anything.

[i]You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.[/i] Brendon felt a little hope ignite inside him again, but it quickly smouldered and burned out when he noticed that Ryan did exactly sound very excited about it- he was then confused, unsure of what to say, having thought previously that at this point they’d have made up, were back to normal, and he could call Ryan his boyfriend. His plan hadn’t worked the way he had intended. [b]”You’re welcome?”[/b] He suggested anyway, running a nervous hand through his hair. He met Ryan’s eyes with as much boldness as he could muster and wondered what he was thinking about. Ryan looked distant, unsure, unconvinced, and whatever remnants of confidence he possessed had been stamped out in the dust. Brendon felt drained, and anticipated disappointment just from the uncertainty of Ryan’s reaction. [i]I - I do. I do still like you. But I don't know if... you really feel the same.[/i] What? Brendon’s brow furrowed and he opened his mouth to argue, pausing only to process properly what he had said. [b]”But I just [i]told[/i] you I do,”[/b] He pointed out, shifting forward slightly with purpose. [b]”If you still like me, what’s the problem?”[/b]

He sounded horrendously entitled, and was too oblivious to even realise. [i]What am I supposed to say, Bren? I pine after you for months and it-[/i] He shifted, uncomfortable, aggravated. [b]”You say you’re happy, and you date me,”[/b] He suggested, looking down at his own hands. [b]”I don’t understand the issue.”[/b] [i]You tell me you like me after I always thought it was impossible, you never would...[/i] Brendon was frustrated. He didn’t understand what Ryan’s big issue was- Sure, it had taken him a while, but surely that should lead to happiness, and a greater sense of relief? He couldn’t find words, lost at how he’d gone from ‘I’ve been waiting for you to say that’ to ‘what am I supposed to say’. So Ryan knew what he wanted from Brendon, but not what he wanted with Brendon. He bristled visibly just thinking about it, but willed himself to at least maintain composure. Brendon had worn his heart on his sleeve and it had been hurt- typical.

[i]I’m scared, too.[/i] What did he have to be scared of, Brendon thought? He stayed quiet, staring at his hands, wishing suddenly that he stayed back at his fucking penthouse and left everybody the fuck alone. [i]I could come back, and you realise you just missed the company, misinterpreted things. What then?[/i] Brendon finally looked up to meet Ryan’s eyes again, defiant, but only felt a sense of unease combined with strong affection because he looked so good and Brendon really felt like this was breaking his heart in real time. [b]”...Do you think I’m lying? That I’m that out of tune with my feelings? I might find it difficult, Ryan, but this- I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t sure,”[/b] Brendon mumbled, shifting back again resignedly and dragging his hands roughly down his face. [b]”Whatever, if that’s- if that’s how you feel...”[/b]