dark, light | angeless [c]

♗ | wounds

Ryan rested his chin on the desk, watching Angelo. "Try it like this," He said, staring at the candle. He looked determined, so determined that Angelo was almost worried he'd give himself a headache. He couldn't help but bust out laughing, however, when Ryan just blew out the candle rather than actually use his mind to put it out.

"Anyone can do that," Angelo chuckled.

Ryan grinned goofily. "But it got you laughin', and y'can't work well if you're too tense." He stated before crawling up onto Angelo's bed and laying there. "Just try again, Angey, you'll get it." He yawned.

Shaking his head and smiling, Angelo relit the candle, staring at it, focused. Ryan was probably right. No one works well being too tense and stressed out.

Angelo nearly jumped out of his skin at the loud smacking sound of Ryan hitting the window after pouncing off the bed with wide eyes. "What the hell?" Angelo whined.

Ryan's eyes never left whatever they were focused on. "Bird." He stated simply. A convincing enough lie, surely. A lie of sorts, anyhow: After all, Angelo would expect him to pounce at birds.

The teen narrowed his eyes, turning back to the candle. "Mhmm.. Right," He said with a sigh, trying to regain his focus.

With a tight jaw, Ryan kept his palms flat against the glass of the window. "I gotta-" He half-whined, fussing with the window to try and open it. "Nnh.." He huffed impatiently. "Not fair," He mumbled to himself, shaking.

"Ryan, hey," Angelo frowned, standing up. "Calm down. Birds don't make you shake like that.. What's wrong..?" He asked.

Ryan sniffled and hopped out of the windowsill. "Mm, not fair.. I'm not- I'm not very good at this.. You don' get it, Angey, y'don' remember what they're like," He said shakily.

"Don't remember-..?" Angelo asked.

Ryan whined, stomping a foot lightly and tugging on his hoodie childishly. "Please stay here? Please? Please trust me. Chris will kill me if anything happens to you," He babbled, closing the curtains and turning the lights off.

"Ryan, sweetie," Angelo said softly. "Calm down a little. What's going on?"

"Everyone wants a piece of you, Angey. Literally." Ryan whined, rubbing his eyes and dragging his nails down his face. "Let me do what I'm s'possed'ta do. Stay here.. if you hear anything, ignore it. Don't look out the window, don't even leave your room.. Please.." He murmured.

Sighing, Angelo sat down on his bed. "What are the chances of you getting hurt?" He asked.

Ryan scratched the back of his neck. "Ten outta ten. But.. well, it wouldn't be the first time.. I've taken bullets for you, Angey," He said, grinning goofily. Angelo could see sadness, though, in Ryan's bright eyes. "Cause you-.." He trailed off. "Don' remember.." He said, grin fading to a frown. "Stay here, Angey.."

Ryan scampered out the door, closing it behind him. Angelo sighed, leaning back against the mattress and staring up at the ceiling.

For a long while, there was silence. But Ryan hadn't come home. Not after one hour, not after two. And that was when the noises started up.

Whispering.. scratching against the glass of the window.. light tapping. Angelo froze, and, like a frightened child, he pulled his feet up onto the bed with him, silent.

He wanted so badly to get up and look, but he didn't want to risk anything. He was scared. Scared for Ryan, wherever he was.

The familiar, safe sound of a car pulling into the driveway brought the briefest of comforts. Something about parents being around could just make things feel safe from time to time.

Until, of course, Angelo realized that his mother might be in danger. That thing.. whatever was outside his window.. It was a threat, quite obviously. Ryan wasn't back, and Angelo didn't want his mother getting hurt as well. He bolted to the front door and looked out the window.

Much to his surprise, it wasn't his mother. Instead, it was that substitute teacher. Devin, Angelo remembered.

"Oh, great," Angelo whined softly.

A/N: this chapter sucks ass. i'm sorry :b