Empty Gold - {ryden}

13. Love

13. love (noun) - an intense feeling of deep and constant affection

Brendon watched with mild humor as Ryan paced back and forth around their hotel room, laughing softly to himself. "I can't believe you want me to come to New York to run a shop with you," he said with another disbelieving laugh. "New York, Brendon!"

"That's where we are, yeah," Brendon added with a small chuckle to himself.

"Do you know that my parents thought I wasn't good enough for this?" Ryan had turned to look at Brendon, patiently waiting for an answer and only continuing when he shook his head. "They told me, 'Ryan, I can't believe you would throw away your life like this! You were going to get into Princeton! You were going to be a journalist! You were going to make a mark!' Well, fuck that mark, because look where I am now!"

Brendon laughed loudly this time, reaching for Ryan's hand and pulling him to sit on his lap as his arms circled his waist. "You're making the right mark for yourself," he said softly as he pressed a kiss to his temple. "It may not be the one they wanted, but it's the one you were always meant to make. I'm proud of how far you've come in the last couple of months. No one amazes me the way you do."

Ryan looked at Brendon and gave him the softest smile he's ever smiled in his life. "I just." He paused, shaking his head as he smiled wider at Brendon.

"'Just' what, dear," Brendon inquired quietly.

"I just," Ryan continued in a soft voice, "I still cant believe you want this with me. You want me to co-own your shop, you want me to move out here to New York with you, and you want me to be in your life like this. I, honestly, just don't understand why."

Brendon smiled a soft, knowing smile as he pulled Ryan a bit closer. "Well," Brendon started, his voice full of sincerity, "for starters, you already know how much potential I see in you. Not to say that all of my artists - all of my friends - aren't talented in their own regard, because they are, it's just. Something about you, your presence and your stature drew me to you. Seeing your art, the way your brain works when you're working on something, it's like nothing I've ever seen. It's everything a great artist should exude, and you do."

Ryan blushed, holding onto Brendon as he continued speaking. "Not only that," he said with a bit of a wider smile, "but when you bumped into me and scattered my papers all over the ground-" Ryan groaned slightly, burying his face in Brendon's shoulder as he laughed "-the moment our eyes met, it almost seemed like everything in that moment made sense. At that point in my life, I'd gotten into a funk of thinking what I was doing wasn't making any sense. I - to be perfectly honest - had gotten out of a pretty serious relationship about a month prior, and I was beginning to question everything."

Ryan looked at Brendon softly, running his fingers through his hair and allowing him to continue to speak without being interrupted.

"I was beginning to question if I was a good artist," he continued. "I was beginning to question if I was a good businessman, a good friend, a good brother, a good.. person, in general. It seemed like this idea of moving to New York to pursue another shop when I was having doubts about my place in the original one was way too far fetched and almost impossible. Then, this clumsy, mousy brown haired boy comes literally stumbling into my life, and it seemed like everything wasn't so crazy after all. You've brought a light to my life again, and if this is the least I can do to repay you, then I'll do this and so much more."

Ryan felt tears prick at his eyes as Brendon turned to meet him.

"To put it simply," Brendon continued in a hushed whisper, "I love you, Ryan Ross. I love you for who you are and for what you've done for me. So. You deserve this, and everything more."