More Than Enemies [Slow Updates]

12

Ranboo waited in the car, continuing to glance at the time. He hadn't told Clay that he had left the party, nor that Tommy would be returning to their house. 

He couldn't help but wonder what was going through Tommy's head at the moment. Was he still shaken from the breakup? Was he dreading going to Ranboo's? Or… perhaps he was just as eager as Ranboo was? Doubt it.

The Brit finally emerged from the house, carrying a duffle bag with him. Ranboo got out of the car to offer him assistance, but he was quickly shot down with a glare from the shorter one.

The two of them headed to Ranboo's house in silence, tension growing everytime the two would make eye contact while glancing at each other. 

By the time they arrived, all lights in the house were off and there was no sign of life inside the house. 

Ranboo, having carried Tommy's bag inside despite the blonde's resistance, crept through the house on his toes. Tommy wasn't far behind him, doing the same. 

They reached the upstairs guest bedroom and Ranboo set Tommy's duffel bag at the foot of the bed.

…Silence…

Ranboo cleared his throat, not able to take the awkwardness any longer.

"Uh— well… goodnight, Tommy," Ranboo said, lightly touching Tommy's arm. As a friendly gesture.

Tommy glanced up at him.

"I— yeah… Goodnight, Ranboo."

Ranboo nodded, slowly retreating to the door. Tommy stood, arms stiff at his side, staring at the ground. Contemplation was evident in his eyes, though Ranboo wouldn't ask what he was thinking about. 

Ranboo was fully out of the room before Tommy spoke.

"Thank you… for what you did for me, Ranboo…" Tommy whispered, his voice unsteady.

"Of course, Tommy," Ranboo said gently. "Anything for you—"

Ranboo played off his remark poorly, his head snapping down in shock at the words that had left his mouth.

If Tommy heard what he said, he didn't show it. The Brit just nodded and started to dig through his duffel bag.

"Goodnight, Tommy," Ranboo said as he shut the door.

"Goodnight."

Time skip~

"'Anything for you.'" Ranboo mocked himself as he put on a baggy T-shirt and athletic shorts that went up to his mid thigh.

"So stupid," he grumbled, "simping for a guy who considers you his worst enemy."

Ranboo flung himself backward onto his bed, letting out a heavy sigh.

 Shoving away his thoughts, he rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling until he was too tired to hold his eyes open any longer, and he fell into a restless sleep.

.   .   .

Ranboo stood once again overlooking the same cliff. The sky was grey, cloudless, but dull. Everything was dull. No colour brightened his surroundings. The dirt he was standing on was coal black, the trees were a dead grey, and the sun was a faded white.

He stood, looking down at the void. The drop stretched on for ages. Who knew if it ever ended. He'd be dead before he could know the answer. So why was he drawn to it? Why did he find himself here so often? What did it all mean?

He knew how this would end. With him giving in to the distant voice that beckoned from the dark depths below, despite the other voice that begged him not to. He didn't want to. Not again.