We're spooning in bed. Ryan's hair is a limp, sweaty mess, and he's snoring softly. I'm staring up at the ceiling, body shaking.
Today is the day we leave High School behind. It's horrifying to think about. Not the part about leaving school: I can't wait to get out of this dump.
High School is something you want to forget. You look back it and you laugh at your ugly hair, your stupid way of looking at things, your silliness and hormones and your mistakes.
And High School Sweethearts? They never, ever last.
What if we don't last?
I love Ryan, with all my heart. And deep down, I know that I'll never forget him. Probably won't ever stop loving him. But what if, all of the sudden, when he's at Brown, conversing with other intellectual kids, he realizes that he wants some emo twig who talks about metaphor in everyday life? What if he doesn't want a stupid little boy who sings and has child-bearing hips? What if he trades me in for someone deeper, smarter, prettier, better?
These are the things I think about at 1 AM.
I wiggle closer to him, seeking body heat, even though we're already packed in, and he makes a soft sound, caressing my cheek. "Bren." He mumbles, and my heart flutters at the gravelly swoop of his voice.
"Ry." I answer, relaxing as he brushes his lips across my cheek. His stubble is pointy and drags across my skin.
"Why... why're you awake?" He slurs, and I shrug. "Anxious." I respond, and he smiles, eyes still closed. "Don't be." He breathes, fingers trailing along my spine, and my heartbeat stutters. He brings it out of me. Always will.
"I can't control it." I respond, and his eyes slowly open, honey colored and slightly unfocused. "You're too pretty to be worried." He says simply, and a small smile curls onto my lips.
"That's not how anxiety works." I say, and Ryan giggles softly, pressing a long finger to my lips. I instantly fall silent.
"Shush. Whatever it is, we'll work through it together, Brenny." He hums, and I sigh. "What if we break up?"
He stiffens, eyes focusing on my face. "Do you want to break up?" He asks, and I shake my head quickly. "No. No, no." I reassure him, and Ryan relaxes. "Then it'll be fine. I have no desire to leave you."
The pressure in my chest decreases, but it's still there, heavy and obvious. "What if you find some other poet with great hair and pristine vocabulary?" I whine, and Ryan laughs. "Why would I want a snobby poet when I have a heart-melting musician, with perfect eyes and the kindest soul around?"
I smile in spite of myself. "They'll understand you. And it'll be convenient."
"When have I ever angled for convenience?" He asks, and I laugh quietly. He kisses my cheek. "Sleep, Bren. It'll all be okay." He promises, drawing my head in so it's resting against his chest. I want to kiss him, but my body feels ridiculously heavy. Damn Ryan's perfect body heat and monotoned voice to Hell.
"Sleep." Ryan repeats, hands carding through my hair, and I snuggle into him.
"It'll all be okay, Brendon. Wanna know why?"
"Why?" I whisper, eyelids fluttering shut. They have lead weights on them, I swear to God.
Damn my eyes to Hell, too.
"Because we have each other." He answers.
With that, sleep overtakes me, and I slump into my boyfriends arms, perfectly content.
YOU ARE READING
Boarding School~Ryden
Hayran KurguRoommates. Usually chosen, typically friends. Not Brendon and Ryan. Ryan appeared suddenly. No one but himself knew where he came from. All of the sudden, he was handed a room key, and sent off to an elite boarding school. When he arrived, he expect...
