FEVERISH [RYDEN] [REPOST]

CHOCOLATE

It had been four months since Brendon Urie saved her life.

To say she was thriving would be a gross misunderstanding-

People just don't magically heal- they "find themselves". That's what the ladies who'd stop in for the latest 'Home And Garden' would say. I just had to go 'find myself'.

That was such a strange notion, Aliyah thought. Why would a person try to find themself if they hadn't lost themself in the first place?

Finding yourself is a luxury because it implies that you had yourself in the first place.

But then again, that made Aliyah quite the hypocrite. Because, as she explained to her boss, she didn't have to find herself, she had to just visit a little bit of her that she left behind.

And that's why she had to go to this concert.

It was the second to last show of the Nothing Rhymes With Circus Tour. The era was coming to a close.

And she just had to see them again.

After a week and a half of bickering, she had the next day off, and her shift ended early.

And now, she was running her hand nervously through her hair, suddenly pulling it up into a too-tight ponytail.

A slight amount of pain kept her in the moment, and ponytails were a comfortable pain. A natural one.

She lived in a small flat, spending her nights trading between working at the bookshop and having sex with strangers. It smelled of scented candle and cinnamon and June.

And it was something.

Aliyah sat on the edge of her futon as she pulled her boots on. She didn't know how people dressed for these concerts. Angry, she assumed.

She had since retired her faerie-looking dresses for something more affordable and practical. Individuality, again, was a luxury- being human was something one must afford.

And she, she was on the brink of poverty.

-!-

-!-

-!-

Brendon Urie sat, still as a statue, in front of a mirror backstage.

"Turn."

Brendon turned ever-so-slightly, Ryan trailing the brush down the curve of his cheek with a little more force than necessary.

"Open your mouth. Wide."

Brendon did so.

"Wider, Brendon, goddammit!"

Stage three. Anger.

"Ryan." Brendon spoke, trying his hardest not to move his mouth when he spoke. "Please give me a break."

Ryan bit his lip, focusing on his task at hand- creating thin lines down the corner of Brendon's mouth that wouldn't be disturbed while he sang.

"Tilt."

Brendon did.

"Ryan. Listen to me."

Ryan touched up his cheeks.

"Ryan!"

He reached up and grabbed the top of Ryan's shirt, his head still tilted back, and looked him in the eyes.

"What, Brendon?"

Brendon pulled him down so quickly that he slipped a little, catching himself suddenly on either side of his chair. Brendon pressed his mouth to Ryan's, catching his teeth on Ryan's bottom lip and pulling it towards him, slowly.