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awful sounds, night after night. awful sounds— yelling, screaming, slamming and other inescapable sounds that taint what would be a clear, blue night. blue was usually a calming color, reminding you of the pale blue walls of your bedroom that shut you away from the violence, the cerulean sky that expands past the limits of your view, and finally, the inky blue night that always holds its arms open to you when the house is in slumber. but tonight, as it sometimes goes, the blue is hostile. your house is no home, but neither is the coldness outside.
you shiver under the covers, holding your headphones over your ears tight like they are the only thing keeping your head on your body. sometimes, the noise is too much, it manages to seep past the cracks of the doors and headphones. despite all futilities, you try. once again, escaping into the vast inner world you’ve built. through years and years of running into narnia to escape the troubles in your life, the place has become quite a library. you browse old imaginary friends and anecdotes from better times.
a new story? revisiting an old memory? or an old friend? you browse, hand running over the spines of countless books, vinyls, and cds in your library mind. never do the whispering bunches start minding their volume in the place, though. and none of it can truly drown out the disgusting tirades of your father or the way your neurotic mother spat back at him. you shiver again.
you long for warmth… or quiet. or… something vaguely akin to that. though you’re not quite sure exactly what, you know where to find it. your boyfriend, ryan. always a blotch of color in your blues. a touch of a flame is what you need right now. mind racing at the thought of running through the crossfires of your family’s wails, you creep towards your bedroom door, ear privy to the sound. It’s just the matter of a few seconds before you’re around the corner and out the heavy door. the air is so free you almost think you were hit with a bucket of water. cold.
your parents don’t seem to notice your absence. the noise doesn’t falter. so, foot in front of the other on the shitty pavement, you set out towards ryan’s place. by no means was it ever a short trip, but it was one you never minded, taking in the familiar trees and parked cars on the path to your safe haven. the darkness didn’t slow your step as somehow, the pale moonlight was gentler than the warm ones back at your home.
you arrive, becoming increasingly weary as you approach, realizing that peeking through windows to see if he was in would be a less than innocent look at this time of night. you turn your head in a quick glance around. you were cautious, but not enough to stop yourself from creeping up to his bedroom window and tapping on the glass. behind the translucent blinds, you see dim lights outlining a familiar head of hair— one that you’re used to petting. sure enough, the outline perks up and as soon as he lifts the corner of the curtain to confirm that it’s who he thinks it is, he’s out up and towards the door. you crawl-run as quietly as possible back towards the front to meet him.
his eyes draw lines down your body and his face turns from a neutral but tired expression to one more awake as he takes in the sight of his lover, but lined with clear concern. the corners of his lips are pulled tight, and seeing him gulp put the whole weight of this on you again. you had come running to him again, the second you felt negative and without considering his situation. you had showed up at his… parents’ house… and in the middle of the night without considering what he’d have to go through if he got caught. and despite the fact that he has such a clingy, selfish partner, he still reassures you with endless “i love you”s. yet, what have you ever done for him? you aren't stupid. ryan’s dated other girls before. blonde, pretty girls who were, dare you say, almost beyond his league. so, miles above yours too. they could handle being alone too.
so you wonder, why is he even dating you? he could find himself another girl no problem, a girl who doesn't have these sort of thoughts and has meals with her family. a clammy hand– your own that doesn't seem like your own in the stiff air– wraps around and you hold the meat of your opposite upper arm. compared to a normal girl who could function on her own, you’re nothing more than a dog. or worse, a liability.
your stance wobbles. he notices and reaches out to stabilize you by your arm while you weakly stand, fighting the urge to just run and pretend you’d never shown up to begin with. ryan, oh your kind, loving ryan only reaffirms his grip and shows more worry on his face than before and pulls you inside. your foot instinctively catching you before your knee hit the hardwood floor was what shook you out of it and you shove away from him stammering. “ry, i-im sorry… i shouldn't hav- i wasn’t-”. reflexively, your eyes search his face for approval or disapproval as you panicked for the words, chesting pumping rapidly. “t-thinking…”
your defensive arms fall to your sides. how cruel, the girl who just shoved her loving boyfriend away looking frightened. even though she was the one who originally sought him out. your hands felt heavy now, the weight of your actions feeling foreign in your guilty hands. caught red handed.
and ry still only looks worried. like a child looking at a wounded fawn. it only feels more gutting that in your search, there isn't a trace of animosity in his face. he could at least be angry. but to want that from him would be expecting him to be as bitter and rotten as you, and you know best that neither him nor anyone in the world in which he lives is like you. you can't pull him into the pits with you. he belongs in the sun.
his expression softens as quickly as it stiffened and he doesn’t step towards you. there’s no way you could leave now. your hands rose to your face as you felt yourself welling up and boiling over. rubbing at your face like you could rub the tears and the shame and all the ugliness away, your voice wobbles out. “i shouldn’t have come…”. a lie, really. it’s not how you feel and you don’t even know who or what you say it for. there isn’t anything in the moment you want more than to hold him in your arms and tell him this was all a nightmare that was now over. wordlessly, he turns and starts towards his bedroom, giving you no indication of whether he wanted you to follow or leave. you force your feet to make a decision and you trail after him after a hesitation a bit too long for a girlfriend to have. before you can curse yourself again for your lack of commitment, you reach the entrance at the first door of the familiar hallway. he’s sitting on his bed, the space he leaves just as half hearted as you. not enough to seem like an invite, but just enough to hint that he didn’t want to be alone either.
he doesn’t look towards you, standing in the doorframe surrounded by the darkness of the rest of the house. the warm table lamp halos the gentle contours of ryan’s turned face. he seems so distant, such a different creature than you. he has always tried to understand you, though. always there. the lonely sun never went down.
“ry..?” the end of the nickname lands on your lips in a slight smile. it feels a little improper given what just happened, but if anything, you two were improper. you wrap an arm around your sun. “thank you for seeing me so late”.
ry doesn’t turn, but a hitch in his breath tells you he heard. he dreaded another apology, you knew not to give him another one. your remorse is already knit within every gesture you make and the arms which you try to be as gentle as possible with are still always a bit cruel. yet, he still sinks into them like home. how could you have ever doubted him? you squeeze him a little tighter and rest your face into his back, feeling the tears prickle at your eyes. not burning ones, but cathartic ones. your body didn't shake holding them in and they steadily stain ryan’s shirt. “i’m so happy you’re mine. we can be like this forever, right?”
you feel him curl up a little, lanky body fitting marginally better in your arms. ryan’s warm cheek rests against your hands and you feel the nod of his head before he turns to kiss your hand. “as long as you don’t try to leave me like that again,” he replies, the slight curl of a smile audible in his words. it didn’t lighten the weight of the words, however, and guilt hit you with a pang.
he’s delicate too, surprisingly so and almost more than you. somewhere along the line, you’d forgotten he was a slightly lonely, awkward poet just a few months ago. that beneath the rising stardom and idol he was onstage, he loved you first. nobody new he surrounded himself with after the band would hold the same importance as you. he needed reassurance and someone to come home to at the end of the day just like you. the times where you get in your head and push him away deprived him of what he needed most too and hurt him more than anything.
“i need you too much to do that,” you whisper, trying to keep the doom out of your voice. “you know that”. he shivers as you move your hands, running them down his torso slowly, feeling the goosebumps on his otherwise pearly, smooth skin. a shaky breath snakes out from his chest. “yeah,” he mumbles.