Numbers // weekman/weekeman

-Part 4-

-Dallon POV-

I really did just send that, didn't I? Well, can't take it back now. Genius, Dallon. I mean, I was being honest. It was kinda cute. Watching the impatience gradually build up. Shorter texts, general irritation.

After I sent that, I was expecting something along the lines of "Fuck you." I guess that's not the case, though.

Wait, really?

You know what, yeah sure. Really.

Huh. Thats new.

What? Have you never been told that you're cute before, or something?

Not really.

And suddenly I feel bad.

It isnt really anything to feel bad about, u know.

Yeah, probably not. But I'm the kind of person to feel bad about pretty simple things.

So ur not always an ass?

I'm an ass to hide the fact that I feel bad for people.

Aw now I gotta be the one to say thats cute.

Fuck you. Hey, he may not have said it to me, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm still open to typing that.

Ur so nice, aw.

You're speaking my language already.

Sarcasm is my second language.

We'll get along nicely, then. I can't stand anyone who doesn't know how to handle sarcasm.

We might get along, but not before I know ur name.

We're back to the name game again?

Yup.

Fantastic.

My name is Ryan, btw.

I know.

How?

Name tags usually aren't just there for display, dumbass.

Oh.

Did you think telling me your name would coax me into giving you my own?

Just tell me, please.

Aw. Alright, fine. It's Dallon.

Thanks, Dallon. Wasnt expecting u to tell me anytime soon.

No problem, Ryan.

And with that, I shut my phone off. I lay across the couch, looking up at the ceiling. I frown, thinking about what just went down. I'll admit, though, it was kinda nice to actually talk to someone. To have an actual, friendly conversation.

Well, for the most part friendly.

- - -

-Trigger Warning: Self Harm-

-Ryan POV-

I wanted him to text me, right?

I thought that it would make it better. That I might have at least a little happiness.

And that little happiness lasted for a little bit, but not long enough.

I tried to hold on to it, but the more I relied on it, the more it hurt to watch it slip away.

I want to talk to Dallon more. I'm attached to a complete stranger. It's sickening.

I'm such an idiot.

It's early in the morning. I can't sleep.

I watch the blade that lays stationary on the edge of the sink. I grab it, my hands shaking. I don't want anyone to see. I can't let anyone see.

I place the blade back down, slowly lifting the side of my shirt. I cringe at the sight of my scarred side. Some are old, and some are fresh. I can't take it anymore.

I trace the blade across my side. I focus on the sting of it. When I drop the blade, I glare at the fresh cuts, blood running down my side. I press a towel to it, watching the crimson slowly soak into the cloth. I taste salt as my tears start to fall.

I wish somebody knew. I wish somebody could make it better.

A small amount of blood is smeared across my fingers. I violently turn on the sink, leaving my hands there, letting them soak in the hot water. When I turn off the water, I stare at my shaking hands. God, I'm such a mess.

- - -

"Hey, Ryan."

I look up from the cash register. Geoff smiles at me as he walks behind the counter. I try to smile back, but it turns out to be weak. I'm sure he notices, but, thankfully, he doesn't say anything about it. But he breaks the silence after a while.

"So?" Mischief edges his voice.

I quirk my eyebrow and he sighs.

"Did he respond to you?"

I remember when I told Geoff about Dallon. I had told him how much he interested me. Geoff helped me figure out how I was going to get my number to Dallon. He was overly excited, if you ask me.

"Oh. Yeah, yeah he did." I scratch my head, sighing quietly.

Geoff starts making himself a drink, but he keeps talking to me. "How'd it go?"

"He's an ass." I laugh at myself.

"Is that a good or bad thing?" Geoff asks.

"I'm not sure," I reply.

Geoff nods slowly, taking a sip of his drink. I don't know what he made. "What's his name?"

I laugh again. "It's Dallon. But it took way too long for him to tell me."

"Oh God, what'd he do?"

"He introduced himself as Oprah, for one, and then avoided answering the question when I asked." I run my hand through my hair. "Other than that, I think he's actually quite nice."

Geoff grins at me. "You really like him, huh?"

"You think?"

"I know how you feel. Awsten is a mess, but I still love him."

I nod slowly, glancing out the window. Slight tinges of orange peek over the clouds as the sun begins to rise.

"You and Dallon should talk face to face," Geoff remarks from behind me.

"Believe me, I want to."