Brendon had put a lot of thought into how he felt about Ryan and what their relationship was. They never really talked about it, which, for two people otherwise so close, was a real issue, because. Shit like this could happen- brendon would realise he had fallen in love and because he had never experienced that emotion before, he came to the conclusion that it simply [i]had[/i] to be returned because the feeling was just that intense and euphoric. Well, those might not be the right words- they came closer to describing physically intimacy, something Brendon hadn’t experienced in a long time, actually- the emotion was more mellow, felt warm and sickly sweet and assured and safe and delightful. It had felt that way, at least, until he had ruined the tranquility of the evening by telling Ryan that he was in love with him. The two of them had been looking at the gorgeous night sky and just enjoying each other’s company on the back porch facing the garden, as they often did on mild nights like this, and Brendon, usually enthralled with the colours and the romance of an evening sky, had been more focused on Ryan who was sat beside him, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

He had said it, it had tumbled out of his mouth without a thought. It was one thing being in love- it was another thing to tell the person, and Brendon’s heart had immediately stopped, but he felt hopeful. Vulnerable and earnest, he had stared at Ryan from under his eyelashes nervously, until that anxiety sharpened into shock and regret and humiliation when he realised Ryan was not going to say it back. Once Brendon came to terms with that he shot up from where he sat, scrambling to escape without a word and leaving Ryan in the garden while he blindly made his way to his room, tunnel vision kicking into gear until he had his fingers around the door handle and then he was inside his room, safe, protected, the door a barrier between himself and the mistake he just made.

But then he was alone with his thoughts, and he couldn’t bear it so he made the decision to shower, partially so he couldn’t tell if he was crying or not because that would be pathetic, juvenile, crying over rejection like some teenager. So he had that shower, had leaned against the tile wall and closed his eyes tight, let the water run down his face. It wasn’t a long one because Brendon felt the urge to just crawl into bed and never leave. It had been ten minutes, if that, and he was out, a towel around his waist, and he was ready to get into bed but- a knock at the door. And it could only be one person, obviously. Someone he really didn’t want to see. God knows what Ryan wanted- it wasn’t to say ‘I love you’, clearly, as much as Brendon fantasised in that moment about Ryan taking him in his arms, kissing him, telling him he felt the same way. Maybe it was to apologise... but for what? For not loving him back? He couldn’t help it. Maybe it was just to ask if he was okay.

Brendon let all these thoughts rush through his head in the moments it took for him to decide to let Ryan in. He could’ve come in anyway, there wasn’t a lock or anything, but Ryan wasn’t the kind of guy to invade someone’s space no matter the situation. Inhaling and exhaling and feeling the nervous tremor in each breath, Brendon opened his bedroom door, his eyes dropping to his feet immediately because he could not look Ryan in the eyes. [i]Are you okay?[/i] The stupidity of that question made anger surge through him, and it was as if he was going through several stages of grief in thirty seconds- denial that Ryan didn’t feel the same way, then a rush of anger, blaming Ryan for leading him on and allowing Brendon to fall in love when he had done nothing of the sort. He hadn’t quite stooped to bargaining yet. [b]”No,”[/b] Brendon said in a quiet voice, so unlike him.

But Ryan probably knew that, he was asking because he didn’t know what else to say. Not like he could lie and say that he loved him when he didn’t- but part of Brendon wished that he would so he could just pretend, entertain the idea that they were both in love with eachother. Reality was bitter and sharp, though, when he finally looked up to meet Ryan’s eyes. [i]Are you angry at me?[/i] [b]”No,”[/b] He said again, though a part of him unfairly was. [b]”No. I’m angry at myself. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry for ruining things.”[/b] A pause. [b]”I think I’m going to leave.”[/b]