Ice // Ryden (Short Story)

Five

It's been five days. Five days ago, Ryan and I almost kissed. I almost kissed my best friend. His lips looked so soft and they were so so close, just an inch. If we leaned in an inch earlier we could've kissed.

Ryan and I have been sleeping in the same bed. I can't sleep again. He's asleep next to me. My scar covered arms are rested on my stomach. Ryan doesn't know I've relapsed. I've made sure he doesn't know. But now, right now, when my blade is just in my bag, when it's merely 6 feet away, I can't stand the thought of him being so close.

I could leave.

I could leave the room, go to the bathroom, I could do it there. I did it two nights ago.

Tears begin to fall. I take a deep, shaky breath.

"Bren?" 

I can't leave.

"Why are you still up?" He asks tiredly. 

"I couldn't sleep," I say, voice broken.

"What's wrong?" Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.

"Nothing." 

"Tell me," he insists. Fuck you.

"I... I'm scared to..."

"Why?"

"Because it could ruin everything." Fuck you, I love you.

"I..." He thinks, "I think I know."

"I love you," I say shakily.

"I love you too," Ryan says. We don't speak. I don't look at him. 

"I did it again." It barely comes out as a whisper.

"Hm?" He asks. It will hit. He will realize. And he does, "Wait..."

"Two days ago."

"Bren, wait-"

"When you fell asleep." Tears have clouded my vision. There's not a lot to see, not until Ryan sits up and reaches over to turn on a lamp. I hesitantly sit up, holding my sleeves nervously. I look at my hands. 

"Can I see them?" He asks, gently holding my hands. A tear falls onto the blanket. Expressionless, I nod, pushing my right arm forward. He looks confused, since I'm right handed, but rolls the sleeve anyway. They are bright red against my snow white arms. He rolls up the other sleeve. A tear falls onto my arm, so I sniff and pull my arms away, standing up.

"Bren," Ryan says carefully, pulling the covers back and standing up as well. I don't face him. He tries to, but I just turn. 

"Can we please just forget about it?" I ask, pulling the sleeves down. "I don't want to talk about it anymore, I just missed it all, nothing else. I promise, there's nothing else to it, now can we please just sleep?" My voice is raspy. 

Ryan looks at me, almost like I'm insane. He lets out a quiet sigh and nods, because he know I won't budge. 

I lay down in bed, he turns out the light, then snuggles into me. I don't mind it, his head rested on my shoulder and my hand rested on his waist, him pulling the blankets over us. 

"I love you, Brendon," he says.

"I love you too, Ryan."