I Can Hear You - Rymin Oneshot I think that's what it's called

I Can Hear You

(A/n- the italics is the lyrics Ryan is singing/has sung)

     I set the book down and lie beside him. I would try to sleep, but hearing Ryan's breathing beside me, and having that slight tinge of warmth is going to keep me up for hours. So, I resort to staring at the ceiling. It's no fun. I can see a sliver of light coming from the bedroom door; it marks the ground in a long line. And there's a nightlight in the corner that makes the whole room a little brighter, and it sits behind Ryan. I glance over at him. The nightlight is illuminating the rim of his silhouette, tracing the edges of his hair. As my eyes adjust to the dark, I can see his face. I notice how long his bangs are as they cover so much of his face, and how his mouth slightly moves as he breaths, and the way his hand is set against the pillow, palm down.

     I look back up at the ceiling. Then at the window. It's closed but I can see the blue moonlight peeking its way through the cracks of the blinds. I look at the ceiling light. It's a bit generic with a black rim that contrasts with the slight yellowish peach of the ceiling. It's a popcorn ceiling with bumps everywhere. I wonder to myself why they even make ceilings like that. And why they'd chose those colors together, the black looks so wrong against the peach. In my room I have a light attached to a fan. Ryan has a white fan that sits on his desk. I look over to the fan. Beside it, is his backpack and whatever schoolwork he had been working on before. Sitting against the desk is that old and probably out of tune ukulele that I've heard him play maybe once.

     I feel a small hint of guilt pass through me. I was staring at his room, why am I staring at his room? I brush away the thought. I don't have anything else to do anyway.

     Except to look at him. And to think about him, again and again. I felt so warm next to him, and in his room. He made everything warmer. Each time I saw his smile, and each time he started to sing, it made me feel so happy and I want to hold onto that. I can't lose him. I can't lose his warmth. I'm scared if I do, I'll end up becoming cold. I'm scared without him I'll sink into the ocean of my feelings and become worthless again. I can't lose him.

     I don't like parties. They're so loud and overwhelming, people brush past me, and everyone is moving. Everyone has something to do except me. Except when he's there. I love being there, beside him, as he sings to the karaoke. I love watching him smile at me whenever he finishes a song. I love to see him run over to me and rant about how they didn't have his favorite song. Then he'll beg me to go outside with him so they can sing it.

     And hearing him, as we sit on the steps of his friend's house, it's wonderful. His glasses reflect the moonlight. His voice. It melts into the air so welcoming and peaceful, but so passionate. And happy. And warm. It's cold outside, but the sound of his voice and the look in his eyes burn me. They fill me with some sort of happiness, it's slightly overwhelming, but I like it. I tap my foot to the beat of his singing, and he looks at me. His smile, it feels so safe. Being here with him feels safe. And after he's done singing, he keeps his eyes on me. It's silent and it's wonderful. I can hear his breathing and the sounds of cars passing in the distance. I can hear the leaves from trees on the other side of the street. And I can see him.

     His voice is carved into my brain, it won't let itself leave. Hearing the way he says my name feels like it's wrapping itself around me. Sitting next to him, shoulders touching, it feels like sitting by a warm campfire after standing in the snow. Seeing the way he moves his hands across the guitar, so calculated, yet it's almost muscle memory at this point. And the emotion bleeding through the way his fingers strummed against the strings. It felt so much like him. Like Ryan. It was unmistakably his voice running through my ears, his voice echoing in my head, his voice that haunted me when I sat alone in my room.