Mending Ryan Falls ✓

17 | in which she sees his layers

I'm not letting my walls down for anyone again.
You want to get in? Climb.

.\.|./.

Crystal Monroe

|in which she sees his layers|

You know how in movies, after a big revelation, the episode usually ends? Or there is a blackout, giving the audience time to dwell on the bomb that was just dropped.

I kind of wish something like that would happen now.

How do you react when a weird, totally-creepy, disturbingly handsome, and always so happy-go-lucky guy tells you he tried to kill himself by throwing himself in the way of your car?

How the hell do you react when anyone tells you they tried to kill themselves?

This is not something we are taught in school, or in life in general. Why are we never trained in socially appropriate ways of responding to unusual behaviors and phrases? Why am I so lost right now, shocked and disturbed too, but mostly inefficient to answer him the way he might be expecting?

His silver-grey eyes bore into mine, a smile sneaking its way onto his face.

"You what?" I blurt out, sounding stupider than I feel.

His smile widens, and he leans back against his pillows, folding his arms across his chest and giving me a smoldering look.

"That was slow," he says, shaking his head sympathetically.

"You want to die?" I reiterate, feeling increasingly awkward. "So, it wasn't an accident? It was a suicide --"

"Crystal, I'm kidding." He chuckles.

I stare at him, not knowing what to believe. How can he change his statement this fast?

"But you just said --"

"I lied."

"You were supposed to speak the truth," I point out.

His eyes turn a shade lighter, a mischievous glint in the grey that sparkles like glitter.

"So were you," he says, fighting a smile and failing.

I should probably take it lightly, laugh his comment off and roll my eyes. A normal girl would probably even let out a laugh and toss her hair over her shoulder to play it cool. She might even have a cocky comeback that would give her the upper hand on the conversation.

Being as lame as I am, though, I have nothing cool to either say or do. I just stare at him without blinking, my mouth hanging open while I gawk at the totally-hot-totally-psycho guy in from of me.

Yeah, I'm that lame.

"Ryan, I'm serious," I say, hoping to regain some of my lost dignity.

What makes him think I'm lying? Well, yes, I lied. I lied about seeing Jeremy, but I have my reasons. I don't want him to look at me and pity me, the poor girl stuck in an abusive relationship. I'm no longer stuck. Jeremy is gone and he might never come back.

He hasn't looked back in two months, what do I expect?

Regardless, I don't like the fact that this man can see through me. Is it really as easy as he makes it seem? Why can't anyone else see through me then? The cracks in my façade? The flaws in my illusion? The lies in my words?

"Sirius Black? I liked that guy," says the jerk.

Without giving him time to mock me some more, I jump to my feet, fuming and glaring at the man who looks like lucifer himself.