gonna start doing this is 3rd person cause i hate writing in 1st.
c:
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It's been almost two weeks in Ryan was discharged and he hasn't seen Brendon since the day he woke up in the hospital.
He expected to see Brendon at school, but Brendon wasn't there and Ryan was tempted to ditch and go find him. Ryan's phone and laptop were taken away because his parents don't want him having any contact with Brendon.
It's Friday and the school hallways are flooded with students rushing to their lockers or rushing to the doors to go home. Ryan is taking his time, knowing that his mother is waiting outside in her car to get him from school. Britton walks with her new friends, and that guy named Spencer, and Ryan doesn't understand why she gets to walk home and he doesn't.
When Ryan closes his locker and walks away from it, he's suddenly pulled to the side.
"What -"
"It's me." He says, and Ryan feels like weights are being lifted from his shoulders.
Brendon is wearing a black hoodie with the hood up, and a pair of sunglasses, like he's trying to hide from everyone around them.
Brendon pulls Ryan into the nearest bathroom and locks the door.
"What are you doing?" Ryan asks, and Brendon steps closer to him and wraps his arms around Ryan's neck, burying his face in the crook. Ryan's arms wrap around Brendon's waist and he sighs contentedly.
"I miss you." Brendon says quietly.
"My parents took my phone and computer away." Ryan says.
"I figured that when you didn't answer me the second day I tried calling you. Kept going to voicemail."
Brendon pulls back, keeping his arms around Ryan.
Ryan closes the space between them and presses their lips together.
"Why haven't you been in school?" Ryan asks when he parts, and Brendon looks down, shrugging a shoulder.
"I don't know. I thought it'd be awkward seeing you after I was forced to leave the hospital." Ryan hums in response and Brendon looks back up at him. "How've you been? How are you feeling? Anymore weird -"
"I've been fine, I feel better now that I can see you, and no, no weird dreams." Brendon bites his bottom lip nervously and nods his head. "What about you?"
"Terrible, horrible, no."
Ryan frowns and grips Brendon a little tighter.
"What's going on? Talk to me."
"It just sucks not being allowed to see you or talk to you. I feel like it's my fault for what happened to you and now your parents hate me and they'll probably never let me see you again."
"They don't hate you, they just -"
"Ryan, they hate me. If you could have seen the looks on their faces every single time they saw me, you would see that they hate me."
"Well, they hate me too. So who cares."
"I hate this." Brendon sighs and rests his head on Ryan's shoulder. "This is the only time we'll get to see each other. For one hour, five days a week. It's stupid."
"I moved my room into the basement." Ryan then says, and Brendon looks up at him, his eyebrows furrowed. "I stay there all day, except for when I have to eat dinner, and they never come to check on me. Well, they do, but they don't come downstairs. They yell down the stairs and wait for a response. And then they close the basement door."
