[i]You brought it up first.[/i] Ryan wondered what went on in Brendon’s head, here. This was as serious as they’d ever been during a fight, sure, so maybe it was all a jumble and he was just staggering through arguments at random - but what direction was he going, if any? Did he want to [i]win[/i] something? It was starting to sound like it, and Ryan gave him an exasperated look, almost in disbelief if not for the fact that this was kind of believable Brendon behavior anyway. Still - he was one in a million. Okay, Ryan brought up leaving. He’d been expecting some refuting. In fact, he’d given Brendon the second option of apologising, and yet there didn’t even seem to be a pause of consideration for it. It was almost funny the way Brendon was navigating this all; Ryan knew he was stubborn and self-assured, he just apparently hadn’t known the extent to which before this. 

He waited again for Brendon to back down, because surely when he was under the impression that things were ending between them, he’d simmer and try to see things from Ryan’s angle. Apparently that was expecting too much. Ryan studied him, the absent way he stuffed away the keys as soon as he got them, how he barely acknowledged the documents handed his way. If anything, Ryan figured the premise of having to deal with this stuff or find someone else to do so would scare Brendon into reconsidering, but he said nothing. Instead, he just made way for Ryan, and Ryan stepped forward confidently, afraid his own persistence might run out in favor of turning around and giving Brendon an easy way out of this. [i]Is that it, then? Are you- we’re breaking up?[/i] ‘We don’t have to be, idiot,’ Ryan wanted to snap at him; it was that simple, ‘just apologise or at least take it back.’ But it didn’t seem like he was backing down.

He stopped in the doorway, close to him, turning a tired face to Brendon and studying him. He supposed that was how Brendon was, anyway, and this wasn’t a reflection on how much value he placed in their relationship - if it was, then hell, all of this was nothing. But in reality Brendon hadn’t had to truly fight for anything in his life. He’d fight in general, sure, he’d argue and start conflict for the fuck of it and bite back at sometimes the most ridiculous of provocations, ‘cause he was... y’know... like that. When it counted, though, he wasn’t conditioned to raise a finger. To be fair to him - Ryan wasn’t much of a fighter, either; he was sort of spineless at best, and more often than not, he bent to Brendon’s will (and not without being annoying about it). Right now, though, he was deadset on not letting this one slide, sparking a change to their frustrating status quo. Given how firm Brendon was on his side, it looked like this was becoming a risky game to play.

Actually, he was a little worried. Ryan was probably easily replaced for someone like Brendon, and. If he really believed they were breaking up, and [i]really[/i] couldn’t admit he was in the wrong for Ryan not to stick to his guns and walk away... A flash of doubt shone through his features, and Ryan’s gaze flickered from Brendon’s momentarily, uncertain. [b]”I- I don’t want to talk to you when you’re treating me like shit. So think about what [i]you[/i] want between us. I’m not making things easy for you anymore, I’m done with that.”[/b] He avoided the question, really, because [i]god[/i] it scared him to think about breaking up. Brendon had become such an integral part of his life, someone he looked forward to seeing every day, in fact- the first thing he thought about when he woke up, last thing when he fell asleep. And, with what started all of this, how would Brendon cope [i]healthily[/i]? Compromising and losing his new self-assuredness sounded nicer by the minute.

He remembered this morning, too, his nose buried in Brendon’s hair, fingers dancing over his waist, while he left a garden of kisses along Ryan’s chest. Sure, Ryan had been dreading the conversation in the first place, but being worried and holding Brendon in his arms was better than this, feeling worlds apart. [i]I- get out.[/i] Ryan swore he could hear his own heartbeat, like his ribcage was too tight, and he looked at Brendon, looking so out of place and out of his element holding everything Ryan had shoved his way. For a moment he suffocated in the feeling of being at fault; if he’d kept his mouth shut they’d probably be on the balcony laughing at nothing, soaing up the sun. He pushed that guilt away. Feeling sick, he complied, taking a tiny step back through the bedroom door and towards the front door. Any more words at this point and he was just stalling, but - Ryan was terrified. He stopped briefly against his better judgment, pursing his lips. [b]”Bren, I’m serious. If you don’t fix this, I’m done. Just think it through.”[/b] He shook his head to himself, genuinely exhausted, and finally approached the front door, giving up on trying to convince him.