Silence

Chapter 7

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

The walk to Shane's was quiet, to say the least. Shane hadn't said a word that wasn't directions since the park. It was getting a bit annoying. If he was gonna sulk, then I could be mad. He pointed:

"There."

It was a house and not an apartment like I'd expected. Most of the buildings here were shops. Inhabitants tended to live in apartment complexes.

"Wow, fancy-ass house you got."

"Thanks."

"Why are you acting like a tool now, Shane?" I asked.

"Tool?" He whirled on me. "Did you just call me a fucking tool, Conan? Then why are you acting like a dick? Are you mental, mate? You're being a bloody dickhead, and here you are calling me a tool?" He pushed my shoulder. "Having a grand 'ol time over there, thinking you're so bloody brilliant calling me a tool? Innit barmy24 that you're speaking complete bollocks25, and I have to be here and pretend to listen to your stupid arse?"

I couldn't say anything. I understood where he was coming from, but that didn't mean that it didn't hurt. A tear dropped down unbidden from my eye.

"Damn it, Shane..." I said, turning around so that he didn't see me cry.

"God. Shit. I'm so, so, so sorry, Conan. I didn't mean to snap like that." He didn't try to comfort me.

"Look," I said, "I'm sorry I cockblocked you or whatever, but it's not a good idea to do that stuff in public, okay?"

"Where'd you hear that word from?"

"Some American show. It means to block sexual advances. And I'm sorry, I truly am, but I– I don't regret it." Full-on tears were dripping down my face now. Shane wrapped his arms around me, and pulled me to his chest. We collapsed together and I leaned into him, wrapping my arms around his waist. My face in his chest, I screamed. Shane held me as I sobbed and cried. Eventually he started crying, too.

Shane opened the front door and let me into his house. My face and throat hurt, so Shane went and got ice for them.

He handed me an ice pack. "I'm sorry I said those things. There's no real excuse, but I've been so stressed out, from the move to trying to win you over, that it just crashed over me like a dam bursting, and I lashed out at you. The last person I ever wanted to show this side of myself to."

He ran his finger lightly over my right eyelid. I leaned into his hand.

"I'm sorry I called you a tool. I got annoyed that you were obviously upset about something and weren't saying anything. I could tell you were suffering but I couldn't do anything, and that pissed me off," I said. My voice came out all scratchy and it hurt, but I needed to say that. "I don't want to be the last person to see that side of you, I want to be the first. Your first for everything, like you are for me."

"You're right, it's just that it's hard to open up so soon. I'll work on it. I'll try to tell you everything, and let you in. I can't promise I'll be able to do it immediately, but I can try. Your feelings are just as valid as mine, and I need to communicate better with you."

I smiled.

"You know, you're so cute when you smile," he said, poking my cheeks again.

"And your dimples are hot," I said, running my lips lightly over his.