room 207 | shyland ✓

six

ryland's pov

later that night, i was tossing and turning for hours in a feeble attempt to fall asleep, my mind alive with thoughts. shane hadn't even come in this evening, instead waiting outside in his black range rover – a present from his grandparents in thanks for working there over the summer – and beeping the horn at eight pm sharp. i'd stumbled over to my bedroom window, desperate to catch a glance of him as austin ran out to the car and jumped into the passengers seat. i could barely see him, but from the faded window i could just make out the maroon v-neck t shirt shane wore.

since then, a whole four hours ago, i'd been relentlessly checking my phone to see if anything appeared on either of their instagram stories, but they stayed silent and i procrastinated doing anything else on my friday evening, getting into bed. it was now midnight and i couldn't get the last week out of my head; it had all been so strange, so out of the ordinary. the way shane's behaviour had completely shifted from him briefly saying hi or making small talk to telling me his biggest secrets was just unnatural.

the news of his mother had been worrying me, memories falling into place as i recalled the times where shane would arrive slightly quiet and shy, and would take a few hours to crack the shell he formed around himself. the times where he would arrive with tears stricken cheeks. on his way in, i would hear him tell my mother that he simply had allergies, and even in winter she wouldn't question it, letting him head up to my brothers room.

at around 1am, i heard the door creak open quietly before closing once again, stumbling footsteps echoing up the staircase.

"austin, shut up! you're gonna wake your parents up and they'll ground you for months." a harsh, whispering voice exclaimed as it's owner climbed the staircase, clearly accompanied by another.

"shane, you shut up." a slurred voice answered, and i opened by door just a crack, not expecting to see shane dragging a completely wasted austin into his bedroom. the sound of my brother's body hitting the mattress gave out a sickening thump and his door soon closed, leaving me slightly breathless.

creeping over to his bedroom door, i pressed my ear against the wall and heard hushed voices.

"why did we have to leave?" my brother's whines were muffled as he huffed loudly.

a sigh could be heard in response. "because, austin, you were acting like a dick. you're team captain, you've got a reputation to keep up and apparently i'm in charge of that. you know i help you score touchdowns in order to impress the talent scouts because this is your dream career. i don't care about football like you do, austin, i want to make movies. so i practically hand touchdowns to you just so they notice. and then you go act like a complete dickhead at a party in front of half the school."

silence. soft snores.

"right, goodnight to you too then. sleep well." i heard shane sarcastically comment to himself, a scoff echoing through the wall.

he didn't talk again after that, so i crept back not my room and climbed into my bed again, sighing deeply. what shane was doing wasn't right; clearly he had far more talent than my brother when it came to football, but he threw the ball to him nearly every time and allowed him to score over three touchdowns in last week's game. sure, shane still scored the winning one, but it seemed unfair. like my brother was gaining unworthy credit. my phone buzzed against my bedside table and i leant over my array of pillows to reach it.

snapchat
shane dawson is typing...

my heart stopped at the notification and i gulped, feeling the all too familiar butterflies churn in my stomach.

snapchat
from shane dawson

i swiped the notification and typed in my password, watching his message appear on the screen and feeling my chest tighten slightly. we'd never spoken on snapchat before, not ever, so why was he messaging me whilst sat next to my asleep, drunk brother, in the room directly next to mine?

shane |  are you awake?

me |  yes

waiting for a response, i watched as his tiny little bitmoji figure disappeared from being online, and i frowned, placing my phone back onto the table and closing my eyes. ten minutes passed and i didn't receive another notification, finding myself slowly falling into slumber.

"hey." i heard a voice whisper just as i was drifting off and i almost screamed, reaching for my lamp and illuminating the room. shane was stood in my door frame, eyes weary and tired. "sorry, i didn't mean to scare you."

i sat up, eying the taller boy as he quietly shut the door behind him. "it's okay. what's up?"

"your brother's black-out drunk in there." he answered in a flat voice, sighing. his auburn hair was all over there place and he'd changed into an oversized green t shirt and some black jogging shorts. still, he managed to look effortlessly beautiful and i wanted to tell him that.

nodding, i mumbled back, "i know. and you?"

"i've had a few." shane quietly answered me, sitting down beside my small body as the mattress dipped. "i know my limits. your brother always overdoes it." shifting his body so his back was flat against the wall, he tilted his head back and exhaled slowly. he was like fine wine and watching the sunset, never getting old, eyes still sparkling despite the slight glaze the alcohol had given him.

i was still sat by my pillow, waiting for him to say or do something. the lamp by my bedside light gave the room a deep orange glow, the kind you would gain from a fire or lantern, and the sound of the boiler ticking away from across the landing could be faintly heard if you strained your ears far enough.

"what's wrong?" i asked gently as a frown flickered onto his face.

"i hate my life." shane responded quietly, voice faint and cracking slightly as he spoke.

i shook my head, not liking his words and knowing he was a lot more drunk than he was claiming to be. "no you don't. you hate the way your mom drinking makes your life: you don't hate life itself." i carefully analysed, listening intently to the sound of his breathing in a feeble attempt to remember how peaceful it felt beside my ears.

an inebriated smile fell upon his lips. "god, ryland adams, when did you get so smart?" shane smirked, poking the side of my stomach and making me laugh quietly. "when did you get so pretty?" he added, the next six words a hoarse whisper.

then he was leaning towards me and i could feel every fibre in my body begin to quiver and scream because holy shit, was he about to kiss me? gently, he reached his hand up and let the backs of his fingers trace along the curves of my face, down my cheekbone and past my jawline before cupping my cheek softly. i could hear my heart thwacking against my rib cage and my lungs were striving to inhale any oxygen they could. suddenly his mouth was inches away from my own and i could feel his soft exhalations fluttering against my skin.

"fuck, i'm sorry. i'm drunk." shane abruptly stated , pulling back before our lips could even touch and standing up quickly. he swayed slightly, steadying himself against my desk and eyeing my trembling lips. "i shouldn't of– i don't know what i'm doing. i'm sorry." he continued to whisper, shaking his head and running his hands through his hair.

still frozen, sat upright against my pillow, i shook my head slightly. disappointment flooded through my stomach and i could feel my heart digging a hole into the ground below me. "it's fine. i– get some sleep." i muttered back, avoiding his eyes and pushing the pad of my thumb against the light switch.

we were submerged in darkness and he still stood there, leant against my desk with a lack of sobriety tickling the back of his neck.

"goodnight, shane." i firmly added, wanting him to just leave now. his presence was a heavy, dull ache in the pit of my stomach.

"goodnight, ryland."

and the sound of the door clicking shut was just the beginning.