HEY THERE, DEMONS

IX

"In one aspect, yes, I believe in ghosts, but we create them. We haunt ourselves."

― Laurie Halse Anderson

When Olive was a little girl her parents used to fight. They'd fight about money, about acting, about Olive, about William, about nothing and everything and then nothing again. When the love between them died, the love of power arose in her father. No longer did he hang on to her words or surrender himself to her caress. No longer did he cherish her company or speak her name with softness. She only left room for a rage he could not suppress and there was no other target but her. At first there was guilt, an attempt to stop, but soon he gave way, realizing how much he enjoyed beating his fists into her skin. With every hit he felt a cold zing of delight, a buzz he could get no other way.

Her mother used to tell her he did it because he loved her. "Boys tend to hit girls as a sign of affection, young men in your classes may call you names because there's no other way to speak to you". Her mother would tell her stories of love and romance, in only a whisper as she lay on the bed, blood seeping beneath her skin, ribs fractured. There would be no doctor, no evidence, just her own grovelling mother until he lost his temper all over again. "You see Olive, When someone loves you that much, they don't only love your smile, they also love your tears".

Shane hated tears. He hated the feeling of the muscles of his chin trembling like an ocean current. Lashes heavy from tears like an anchor. Anchors falling far and deep down a flood of salty waters. Sinking like the bricks that made up the walls he had put up so well for so long, crumbling down to nothing from just one moment. One stupid stupid moment. A monumental mistake. A mistake with fair skin and dark eyes, a voice smooth as velvet, whispering sweet nothings as easily as bubbling up a laugh at something stupid Shane had said.

People think of laughing as a noise that comes from the mouth, but when Ryan laughed it was nothing like that. The laugh was in his eyes, in the way his face changed into that vision of relaxed joy and unrestrained mirth. The same way his smile wasn't an expression as much as it was a declaration, a call to the world making everyone in the vicinity do the same. His joy was contagious, just being around him for a few minutes was better than a whole day of girlfriends, flings, one-night-stands.... people that weren't Ryan.

He'd thought about it before. Kissing Ryan. For months now he'd fantasised about hands rested below his ear, a thumb caressing his cheek as their breaths mingled. Fingers running down his spine, pulling them closer until there was no space left between them and he could feel the beating of his own heart against Ryans chest.

He wanted slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. He wanted a slamming of lips hard enough to knock the air from his lungs. He wanted sloppy kiss the strong scent of wine being exchanged in the intermingling of billowing breaths. He wanted a delicate butterfly of a kiss, making his heart fluttered inside his chest. He wanted the stupid mistake that he'd gotten, he wanted it over and over again.

You would think that after all the hours he'd spent with Ryan - watching him talk, laugh and frown - Shane would know all there was to know about his lips. But he hadn't imagined how warm they would feel pressed up against his own.

Cold wind blasted through the door, strong as a pile of bricks, taking Shane aback in his determined strife towards his car. It caused goosebumps to bubble up on his skin, like a message from the universe warning him, 'don't go out there, stay here, where its warm and safe, where ryan is'. When the door violently slammed shut again with no help from Shane or any other living person, he knew the warning didn't come from the universe.

"Not funny Ollie, let me out!" he fought with the door knob like it was the only thing keeping him between life or death. Despite all the locks being open and too old to even function properly, the door wouldn't budge.

Cool air travelled slowly to shanes ear, an eery whisper telling him; "Talk to him".

"What the-" He jumped, taking a large step backwards away from the door in fear,
"Was that you? I didn't know you could do that?"

"Neither did I" she laughed, her voice soft and raspy, so quiet that only Shane could hear, "But this is important". It felt like when he was a child, friends would whisper secrets in his ear he was dying to hear, warm breath hitting his neck reminding him of their presence, only now it was icy cold, making the hair on his neck stand on edge.

"Yeah okay I'm sure it is, but I don't want to hear it." when he was a child whispered secrets we're always so interesting, unfortunately he could already guess what this secret was and worse, he knew she was right.

"You can't leave Shane, you'll hurt him." he tensed at this, frozen in fear at the thought of hurting his friend. Friend? His Ryan.

"I'll hurt him more by staying!" he yelled in rebuttal, his tone serious and loud enough for Ryan to hear. The sound of Shane having a weird conversation with himself in the kitchen was strange in itself, but once he started yelling Ryan knew he had to make sure he was okay.

"What? That doesn't make sense! No you won't." a shiver ran up his spine as she spoke, trying to reason with the taller man.

"Yes I will Olive!" He screamed this time, clenching a fist by his side dangerously. He'd dropped her nickname, the thing showing her they were friends not enemies. He looked like her father like this. Wide eyes, aggressive tone, tense and tall, looming over her. She couldn't stand it. "Look he's into someone else okay, he said it himself. I can't ruin that for him!".

A silence fell over the room. Olive attempted reaching a comforting hand out towards Shane until she saw the goosebumps rise on his skin and froze. She fought the urge to disappear, back to the living room or the attic or the basement, somewhere they'd never find her.

She'd ruined everything. She finally had friends, she was loved, valued, acknowledged, for the first in decades she was seen. Why did she have to push it. She had to use that duffel bag, had to make a move, try to force something that obviously wasn't there, ruin the beautiful friendship that once resided between the two, the one that even extended to herself. It was all over.

"I like you idiot!" Ryans voice was like a light in a storm, a knife cutting through the tense silence surrounding the kitchen, evaporating the sadness in every crevice with just a few words. "You're the guy okay, the reason my relationship ended, the reason I do this stupid show with you even though it scares the life out of me, the reason I kissed you!"

A heavy silence settled over them, thicker than the uneasy tension in the atmosphere. Unsettled eyes glanced unceremoniously around and tried to avoid catching each others glances. Shane shifted uncomfortably in his spot, grasped his sweaty, nervous hands behind his back. Olive shuffled her feet against the cold wood of the house floor, awkwardly tracing the outlines of each plank. Maybe it wasn't all over?

"It's you Shane. You're the reason." He sighed, looking into Shanes eyes for the first time since the kiss. Brown. A deep, earthy brown - the color of the earth after torrential rains. But there was something else in them, something glistening. Shock? Fear? Love? Ryan didn't know but he was sure in that moment he would spend the rest of his life ensuring the only emoting glowing in those eyes from that day forward would be pure blissful happiness.

Suddenly that feeling was back. Bliss. Love. Happiness. Shane's movements were quick and desperate, travelling across the small room with the speed of a run, and the want of a man in love. Suddenly Ryan was wrapped in two strong arms, held tight to a hard chest, a pair of soft pale lips meeting his.

It wasn't one of those close-mouthed kisses like you do when you're in eighth grade and you've never held hands before. It was full on, open-mouthed, fast and needy. And he loved it. Loved the way their bodies collided, one melting into another. The way their lips fit like two puzzle pieces. The way his limbs softened as he was held tighter and tighter.

This wasn't like the first time. This wasn't a mistake. This was love. And he loved every second of it.