The apartment is silent when I enter it. The only sound is my feet squishing against the floor. I'm drenched in raindrops. They're clinging for life off my eyelashes and dripping off the ends of my clothes.
It's quiet, but I know you're here. I can always feel when you're near me.
"Ryan?" I call out. There's small sounds coming from our room, and as I draw nearer, I hear Define The Great Line playing through the stereo next to our bed. It's playing quietly, just setting a good mood in the background. You, you're curled up on the very edge of the bed, staring out the window. God, you look so upset.
"Ryan...are you alright?" I ask, rounding the bed to see your face.
Your eyes look up at me without moving a muscle. "You were gone a long time."
"Sorry. There was lots of traffic," I say quickly.
You close your eyes and sigh slowly. "Mike's place is the same way home as the studio. The streets were empty."
Dammit. Why are you suspecting things? I've given you no reason to suspect anything wrong here yet, other than getting home at almost 1:00 in the morning. You sit up in the bed and rub your eyes. Your hair is a mousy brown and tangled mess sticking up in several directions. I crawl in front of you and we sit cross-legged, like we did this afternoon. We always end up in this bed, talking.
"I'm sorry," I say again. "I should have come home earlier."
You nod, but a pout still dances on your lips. To you, nothing is ever right. You never think there's anything to smile about. I've been right all along. I just wish, for once, maybe I could make you smile. I just want to be your reason for something.
"When'd you come home?" I ask kindly, breaking the strange silence.
"About an hour ago," you mumble.
"What've you been up to?"
You shrug. "Just listening to music."
I look at you carefully, then I touch your knee, desperate for actual attention. You look up at me with fear in your eyes. You don't know what I'm going to say. We haven't made it far enough to read each other's minds yet. Unfortunately.
"Do you not trust me, Ry?" I ask, my voice shaking. "I couldn't go out for a few hours without you thinking I'm doing something wrong?"
Lies, lies, lies. I just want you back in my arms, honey. I'll lie over and over if it gets you back in my arms.
Small tears well up in your brown eyes. "I trust you, William. I trust you so much." You lean forward and kiss me lightly on the lips. "I'd trust you with my life."
Well, this is what I get, I guess - a beyond guilty feeling in my stomach. Butterflies, knots, whatever. A yo-yo spiraling down, down, down into the pits of my stomach. I completely asked for it, but I can make up for it. I'll just keep saying things until something makes it right. I'll start on a good note. I'll say something true.
"I love you, Ryan."
The "three words" have never been hard for me to say. I say it to everyone everyday. So now I'm wondering if you'll even believe me. For you, baby boy, I really do set the "I love you" standard higher than all the rest.
Before I know it, you're kissing me again; your hands are running fiercely through my thick hair. Your legs struggle to wrap their long selves around me. Your body pressed close to mine, I can feel our hearts beating against each other's. We're one. For this very moment, we're finally together, and we're finally one. I know it won't last forever, but right now, it's perfect.
"I love you too, William," you gasp out between kisses. As my mouth opens wider through a relieved grin, you take your advantage and slip your tongue in. You push me over onto the pillows, your legs on either side of me, your lips hard against mine.
And I finally had you that night. Or maybe you had me. You took control of everything. You kissed me when I wanted to be kissed; you touched me where I wanted to be touched. And because of those simple, beautiful actions, as I watched you fall asleep next to me, worn out from skin to bone, I realized we really are getting that much closer to reading each other's minds.
Rain is pattering much more lightly on the window when I wake up. It's dark and I can hear the wind whistle slightly. The mattress is also lighter than it was when I fell asleep in your arms, and my heart sinks.
I flip my long hair out of my face and sit up tiredly and a bit sadly. But then I see a long figure standing with their back to me. You're looking in the full-length mirror that's leaned against the wall, and I see your eyes avert in the mirror to look at me through it.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
Your eyes return back to your own body, examining it. When you don't answer me, I become worried. I kick the sheets off my feet and walk over to you. I sigh and wrap my arms around you from behind, resting my chin on your shoulder. You only seem to frown more as I move my hands over your bare chest, all over from your nipples to the waistband of your pajama pants. In the mirror, I can see that your body became my canvas last night. There's many imprints of my teeth on your skin and little brown bruises - the results of our love making.
You scarcely run your fingers over one in particular, on the very tip of your hip bone. I lay my hand directly on top of yours and I feel you shiver against me. "I'm disgusting," you mutter in several octaves lower than you usually speak to me in.
I sigh and kiss your shoulder. "You're beautiful."
"I'm nothing."
"You're everything."
You close your eyes and sigh, still not turning around. "I'm sorry. It's just when I'm with you...When I'm with you, I feel...less than I usually do. I have to be better when I'm with you."
Sometimes, Ryan, you are just so naive.
"Ryan. Again, you're everything. If last night wasn't enough to prove that to you, then what more do you want? Marriage? Kids?"
"I'm sorry," you stutter again. "I'm gonna head over to the studio..."
I groan loudly and release my hands from you as you skitter out of the room. "Again?"
"Hey. We have a lot of work to do."
I stare at you as you stand in the doorway of our room. You are so perfect. I'll never be able to forget last night. How your fingernails dug deep into my skin, and how your head craned backward into the pillows, eyes closed, chin raised to the ceiling, pure ecstasy painted on your face. How you arched your back and moaned like a little whore.
"Well, then work hard," I say, scratching my head under my wavy mess of hair. I walk over to you and do the same to your hair. "I love you."
"Ditto." You place a sloppy peck on my lips and are about to turn around to leave, obviously just going to throw on a sweater to wear with your PJs at the studio, but I stop you.
"If I go out tonight...I'll be back by ten," I say sincerely. "I promise. And I'll pick up a DVD on the way home." I grin.
"That's sweet..."
I step toward you and run my long fingers through your fine hair. "Every night's about you and me from now on, mkay? No more late nights, no more excessive partying...Just you and me."
You only smile half-heartedly. Well I sure thought I was being romantic. Maybe I'll just never be good enough for Ryan Ross. Ryan Ross that sets the bar higher than high. Set it any higher, babe, and our heads will be in the clouds. We need some grounding.
It doesn't make sense when you're not here with me.
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ily guys.
