should've said something | shyland

Chapter Five

For a moment, everything was silent – the winds rustling the trees outside, the pounding of Ryland's already barely beating heart, the sound of Shane's shaky, gasped breaths from beside him. And then, like a tornado touching down from above, like a slow-moving bullet ripping through his already shattered heart, like finding out the boy he loved had fallen for somebody else, everything seemed to start back at once.

He could hear the branches knocking against his window, like they were trying to force their way inside and offer him the comfort he so desperately craved. He could hear the second hand on the clock ticking as time passed by. He could hear Shane sobbing into the pillow behind him, his shoulders bouncing against Ryland and making the bed vibrate beneath them.

And, he hated it.

He wanted to comfort Shane, but he couldn't find it in him to turn around and look at the beautiful boy beside him and tell him it was okay that he was in love with Garrett. He couldn't find it in him to lie to the one person who had always known him better than anyone else. So, he laid there, with his heart in his stomach, listening to Shane's ragged breathing and hoping this was all a nightmare.

But, Shane's sobs didn't lessen. In fact, they seemed to increase with every moment that passed, until they were so loud that Ryland was sure he was going to wake the rest of his family. But, he felt like he was glued to the bed, unable to turn around and give Shane the comfort he wished he wanted to, unable to reach over and turn on the lamp beside him, unable to breathe.

And, like he predicted, as Shane's sobs grew to the point of screams, a door closed from down the hall and Ryland could only watch helplessly as the doorknob of his bedroom was turned. As the room illuminated in light, Ryland felt the weight lifted from his chest, and he shot up in the already sweat-soaked bed, detaching himself from the covers and beginning to cough violently.

"R—Ry?"

He turned to see his little sister standing in the doorway, her eyes widened in horror as she looked from her brother to his best friend for some sort of explanation. Shane covered his mouth, trying to refrain from telling an eight-year-old why he was so choked up, and Ryland slowly pushed himself out of bed, feeling as though he was walking on gravel as he made his way toward the door.

"Morgan," He shook his head. "Why are you awake?"

She frowned, "I woke up to go to the bathroom, but I heard someone crying, so I came to check if you were okay." She poked her head behind her brother's small frame. "Shane, are you okay?"

"He's fine, Morgan."

"But, he doesn't look fine."

"Morgan—"

"I'm going to get Mom and Daddy."

"Morgan," He grabbed her arm and spun her around. "Go back to bed. Everybody's going to be okay, but I need you to trust me, okay? Don't wake anyone else up. Let me handle this privately. I promise, everything's going to be fine; it'll be back to normal by the time you wake up in the morning."

Her lips curved downwards. "Okay."

"Okay, good," He waved her off. "Goodnight."

He quietly shut the door behind her as she danced off down the hall, his forehead falling against it when he remembered Shane was still in the room, still upset, still in tears, still choked up, but still breaking his friend's heart. Everything was silent for a moment. Shane's sobs quieted, Ryland's heart had either slowed or found a way to stop beating all together, even the wind seemed to settle.

"What did you hear me say?"

He looked up to meet Shane's eyes. "Enough."

"I—I'm so sorry, Ryland."