I'll Always Be By Your Side. (Ryden)

Chapter 3

Ryan's POV:
My heart was thumping and going to leap out of my chest. Brendon was still laying on top of me and hasn't moved. His face is getting closer, and he keeps his eyes on mine. Our breaths are one as our noses touch and-
"Ryan, get your ass down here!" Shit.
"Dad's home," I breathed it out and I panicked. "Shit shit shit shit," I pushed Brendon up and off of me. I ran my hands through my hair pulling at the roots. What state is he in? Brendon hasn't been around all of that. I always make sure he's gone before he can actually watch it. I can hear him yelling my name, but I don't feel like I'm actually here.
"Ryan!" Brendon places his hands on my shoulders gently shaking me. I simply nodded at him and turned to walk downstairs to see what fate has chosen today. I could tell Brendon walked out behind me too but stayed at the top of the stairs. When I turned into the living room he was sitting on the couch with a beer bottle in his hand.
"I called for you five minutes ago," his voice was cold and added to that he took a huge swig of that brown glass bottle.
"I know I was in the middle of writing and I wanted to finish my sentence-"
"I don't care when I call for you, you come immediately!" He was looking over at me now; his fist slammed onto the wooden coffee table in front of him as he yelled. Brendon what are you thinking right now? Please don't watch if this gets bad. I don't want sympathy from you. I never told them the full stories just parts to explain why I was left in the middle of the streets.
"Okay I got it," I only managed to mumble. He grunted at that.
"No wonder you get beaten everyday at school. You're too much of a pussy to stand up for yourself. They do the beating for me." He was laughing at his own jokes and just bring me down even more. He only got like this when he drank. Which, yes, was often. Though times he wasn't drinking he acted fine.
"I'd rather not stoop down to their level though. Why bother arguing and fighting, that's what they're doing. I don't want to be them." I made sure my voice was clear and loud enough. My dad yelled something at me about being a good-for-nothing faggot and how I need to be them. How they are in sports and I'm doing nothing with my life. This lead to a yelling match. After yelling at each other for a good fifteen minutes I tried walking away. Only I didn't get far because he slammed me into the wall. His arm against my throat choking me. I tried hitting him but he only pushed even more, cutting all oxygen from me. Everything was getting light. Before I knew it he let go and I dropped to the floor. The bottle he was drinking was, assuming, thrown and broken right above my head.
"That's what you get for arguing with your father," his voice was venom and he spat it out right at me. Letting me taste that un-wanting poison. All it told me was that's not what I am and ever going to be. I picked myself up and trudged up the stairs. Brendon still was sitting there his eyes slightly widen. Nothing was said, but he picked me up and carried me to my room. After the door was shut he finally spoke.
"You never said it was this bad." Of course I didn't. I didn't need you guys to worry.
"I know."
"So I'm assuming he's hit you before." Yes, but not a lot actually. It's just a lot of yelling. I simply nodded at his assumption. "Why do you put up with it though Ry?" It'll only make me stronger.
"He's my dad and the only person in my family left." Brendon seemed to have nothing left to say. He came over and hugged me tightly as if he let go I would shatter like that bottle.
"I'm always here. I'll always be by your side. Don't forget that, Ryan, don't." His voice I could tell was on the edge of tears. I relaxed into his hug and replied.
"I know, Bren, I know," was all I could manage to say. There was so many other replies but that was the one I chose. We both pulled away but I then latched myself onto Brendon again. He began to rub my back in a caring way.
"Let's go to your place, please." My words were muffled but he knew what I was saying. I pulled myself away and wiped the few tears that fell from my eyes away. Brendon motioned for me to climb onto his back so I did.

When we got to Brendon's house his parents didn't care about the change in plans because they know just a dot of how my dad is. We went up to Brendon's room where I sat on the floor with my head in my hands.
"I'm sorry," Brendon's voice was sincere but I don't need it.
"Don't be, there's nothing for you to be 'sorry' about." I cut it at him unintentionally. He only sighed and sat next to me. "Sorry," I sighed too and tilted my head to look at him. This received a smirk.
"Now look who's apologizing." I returned his smile. Brendon put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer.