HEY THERE, DEMONS

VIII

"In Eastern culture, people see ghosts, people talk about ghosts... it's just accepted. And in Western culture it's just not. Don't you see the problem there?"

— Jessica Alba

"Enjoy your victory, String Bean, because it'll never happen again" Ryan slowly made his way back towards the messy array of blankets and pillows they seemed to think counted as a makeshift bed, leaving the evidence sealed tight in a bag and ready to put a night of paranormal investigating behind him in favour of a full night's rest.

You can do this Ollie, you can do this, you can do this, you can do this. Wait how was she going to do this? Basically all she could do was lift stuff and then drop it again. Or that thing where she makes the walls shake, not exactly romance 101 though, plus it takes a hell of a lot out of her so it's a double no to that one. Once a kitten limped into her room with a broken paw and she helped her levitate so her leg wouldn't ache as much! But there weren't too many impaled kittens in the area right now and she was so not about to hurt a kitten. Would a hurt kitten even be romantic? Stop it you can't hurt a kitten! Right then, back to lifting things and dropping them again.

With the flick of her wrist she dragged Shanes night bag from the far corner of the living area to the spot directly ahead of Ryan's path. God, this is a dumb plan, she thought as she watched the heavy pack plop down again where she wanted it, but it was too late now, here goes nothing. Suddenly Ryan was as steady as a leaf in a storm, a baby taking it's first steps, that one scene in bambi where bambi doesn't exactly know how to stand up but she's trying her best and you get the gist. It felt slow, first Ryan's standing, then falling, then impact. His left foot should have extended to take his weight, instead it's caught on a duffel bag and his body is hanging loosely over Shane's own.

It worked?

A heavy silence settled over them, thicker than the uneasy tension in the atmosphere. Unsettled eyes glanced unceremoniously around and tried to avoid catching the others glances that passed by. Ryan shifted uncomfortably, accidentally causing the wrong parts to rub up against the wrong parts of Shanes awkwardly stiff body.

It worked.

Ryan knew Shane was attractive, obviously he wasn't blind. But that thought seemed to always be overshadowed by his cheesy jokes or zombie limbs or just his Shane-ness that screamed 'Just a friend, a work colleague, an inappropriate person to call attractive anywhere outside of your own head', but now; being this close it was like meeting him again for the first time.

He noticed the faint dimple on his left cheek, his slim well sculpted nose, the remnants of a 3am shadow over his chin, his clear pale complexion, the brows that effortlessly framed his chocolate brown eyes; the chocolate that melts at the slightest bit of the heat from love, or happiness. When he would look at Ryan and smile the creases could frame them in perfect happiness, a smile that just seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that warmth rushes to his chest. The way his lips lifted upward. The way his one dimple crinkles. The way his teeth are perfectly aligned. The warm glow his happiness gives.

It was weird to think that beneath all the joking sarcastic exterior there was an attractive man staring back at his every time, what was even weirder was that same exterior somehow combined to make him more attractive in Ryans eyes. A friend he could laugh with, be himself around even if only for a matter of time, the person who made an actual haunted house feel like a castle, the person who made going to work feel more like a weekend than a monday morning and made going home feel more like an empty quiet room than the house that homed all of his secrets, his safety, even his girlfriend for a matter of time, the girlfriend who even after years together had never made him feel the way he felt in that very moment.

Somehow accidentally ending up this close to his best friend felt more intimate than anything he'd ever experienced in any relationship to date. Maybe it's because of how soft his eyes looked, how sweet and innocent his expression sat, his lips gently sitting in a small 'o' shape, small pink lips chapped, broken and all and yet still the most alluring thing Ryan had ever been faced with, pink lips slowly moving closer and closer to Ryans own, soft eyes slowly closing shut, hiding his favourite coffee brown irises from view once again but Ryan couldn't find it in himself to care. All he cared about was the warm breath hitting his neck, reality slipping away slowly as he closed his own eyes and watched as world faded to black, a hand slowly making its way up his back, towards his neck, his hair, his head, holding it firmly in place as finally he felt a pair of small pink lips, chapped and broken, on his own, moving slowly and timidly.

They kissed and the world fell away. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. Shane's hand now rested below his ear, his thumb caressing his cheek as their breaths mingled. He could feel the beating of his heart against Shane's chest, his own heart feeling light and warm and beating so fast it might even burst. And yeah maybe that could be embarrassing if Ryan had it in him to care about anything other than the sensation of lips and teeth and tongues awkwardly bumping together in the most oddly perfect way. 

This wasn't embarrassing. What came next however, that was embarrassing.

As quickly as it had started, as long as it lasted, the moment was gone just as fast. Shane suddenly pulled back, away from Ryan's lips, his skin, his beating heart that was suddenly beating fast but no longer in the good way. Definitely in the bad way. In the confused, anxious, fight or flight way, not the Shane way he'd grown quickly to like. Both feelings may have been Shane induced but one definitely trumped the other.

Ryan decided he liked Shane's mouth up until he decided to start running it again.

"Shit!" Shane exclaimed, ungracefully scooting across the old stiffened carpet in attempt to get as far away from Ryan as possible, it seems where Ryans heart chose fight Shane took to flight. "Fucking shit! What the fucking shit Shane!" He yelled to himself, now sitting back stiff against the opposite sofa across the room, the one right next to Olives chair.

He angrily pumped a fist towards the table next to where she sat and punched the wood with all his strength. The lamp flickered once, twice, three times, and then fell black. The lamp that meant Olive was there, she was happy and accepted and open to communication. She decided this probably wasn't the kind of conversation she would be invited to and hell she was more than fine with that.

"Shane! Chill out, you've scared Ollie" Ryan replied in a warning tone, making an attempt to shuffle closer to Shane on the floor. This however, came to be a bad idea as Shane quickly stood up from his place, legs shaking and face pale he rested a hand on the wobbly table if only to steady himself before taking one final look at Ryan.

His soft features now stone cold, hard eyes fixed on Shane in attempted to gain power, but he could see through that, he could always see through Ryan. He could see the slight tremble in his lower lip, the shake in his voice when he spoke, the unsteady breaths he let out that sounded so loud as the house became so quiet.

He was still beautiful, he always was to Shane. He was like a glass figurine that took hours and hours of sculpting and dedication and love to build, perfect to the eye however still fragile underneath. Now he looked more like a pile of crystal dust - still glass, but broken and vulnerable to any disturbances. Still beautiful and still real, still able to smile and laugh and cry, to feel pain, but can't be broken anymore. Still there, but not like before. That's when Shane decided that as long as Ryan was still there, he couldn't be.

"I'm sorry" He whispered, let out in a heave of breath, held for far too long, holding far too much emotion for human lungs "I'm sorry, I can't stay here." And with that he stood on shaky legs and began to walk, maybe it was a run, Ryan didn't remember, he couldn't grasp anything outside of the repeating few minutes looping in his brain, the two words mocking him in his imagination, a breeze strong enough to blow away broken glass.

'I'm sorry' he'd said as he walked away.

'I'm sorry'

'I'm sorry'

'I'm sorry'

Shanes heavy footsteps made their way from the living room, to the kitchen, to the front door. Ryan heard the lock twist and felt the cool breeze blow through. Soon he heard the heavy creaky wood open and close again, yet all he could think was 'I'm sorry'.

'I'm sorry'

'I'm sorry'

'I'm sorry'