does he feel the same? (shyan) (COMPLETE)

Chapter 25 - alone

Ryan's POV

I am crying in the shower again.

With every tear that falls, I feel like I am betraying myself. I should hate Shane - I do hate Shane. But I still cry. I cry for everything I thought we had together, and for every crack in my mangled heart.

The worst thing is that I'm completely alone. The demon kept his word in one aspect - no one remembers his existence except me. No one would understand the pain I am feeling, but I wish that I had someone to pity me nonetheless.

Now, I brace my hands on the shower wall, hot water running over my bowed head. I used to enjoy cold showers, but the freezing water reminded me of how cold it was in hell. So, in the days since Shane betrayed me, its been hot showers and hot soup and hot tears on my face.

Once I get out the shower, I pull on a green sweater. Shane's stupid, soft, green sweater that I borrowed the day everything changed. The sweater I was wearing when he made me heart-shaped pancakes, and the sweater I was wearing when he lounged on that throne as my soul was ripped in two.

Underneath the scent of smoke and brimstone, it still smells like him.

As I walk out of the bathroom, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My reflection's haunted eyes stare at me, puffy and sunken with exhaustion. There are two cuts on the man in front of me - a slice on the cheekbone and what is unmistakably a knife-mark at his neck. What scares me most is that I don't know how they got there.

I curl up on my empty bed and but I don't close my eyes. My sleep has been fitful these past few nights: I can't escape the nightmares that grip me. The laughing man and burning torches and glinting knives, and over and over again I relive Shane ripping out my heart. I wake up in a cold sweat every night, shaking at the thought of the curling horns on Shane's head and his cruel smile beneath them.

But... the good dreams are worse. Dreams of Shane's kind laugh tickling my ear, or of his soft lips in the morning light. Those dreams hurt the most because they feel so real, and then I wake up and my heart shatters all over again.

I feel like I am grieving, but why do I mourn someone I hate so much?

A dull hunger pulls me out of bed, and I shrug on a jacket to trudge to the bodega. It's raining out, but I don't really feel it. I see two men shoving each other in the street, and a lonely child crying. Dimly, under the fog of my misery, I remember what Shane had spat at me while I lay broken on the floor. 

'You have to go back to earth knowing what demons are, what we do.'

The hate that these people feel - its influenced by demons. By hell's emotional torture. And now I'm another victim.

There is tinny music playing in the store, and my chest aches when I realise its the song that opens Legally Blonde. Before I know it I am crying again, trying to stifle sobs as I reach blindly for cans of food.

'You okay?' It's the owner of the bodega, a plump old lady.

I take a deep breath, keeping my eyes trained on the ground. 'Yeah. Thanks.'

'Are you sure? I can get you some water if you want?'

And it's that - the simple kindness that reminds me so much of Shane - that has me breaking down in the aisle. My loud sobs are muffled as I bury my face in my hands and let her lead me behind the counter to sit down. She silently offers me a tissue, and it takes a good few minutes for me to get control of my breathing again.

'So, what's the problem?'

I sniff loudly and wipe my eyes. 'I- I just went through a really bad break up. And this song is from his favourite film.'

She hums sympathetically, producing another tissue.

'Its just- I guess I thought he was the one, you know? But it turns out -' I have to pause to swallow back tears '- he was lying the whole time.'

'That's not good at all,' she says, shaking her head. 'Men suck.'

Her bluntness draws a wet chuckle out of me. 'Yeah, I guess they do.'

She grabs my face with both hands. 'But look - you are a handsome man. You can't let it get to you, or the other guy wins. You have to fight your demons.'

I smile weakly, but then -

You have to fight your demons.

I pull back in shock, as realisation hits. 'You're right.'

She just shrugs knowingly.

 I am on my feet and running out the store immediately. 'Thank you!' She waves me off and goes back to marking prices.

Heartache is still shrouded around me, but I know now what I have to do.

I have to go back to hell, and fight my fucking demons.