Emerald Eyes

Chapter Two

When he came back home Ryan was panting and gasping for air. Who expected morning runs to be so exhausting? He quickly slipped into his room, well aware that his mother and his brother were still asleep. Warm air from his window brushed past his skin and it felt soothing to him. He stopped moving.
"I'm proud of you"
He threw his head towards the door. What? Where did that voice come from? Who said that? He began to shake, but he just blamed it on the exhaustion. There was nobody in this room but him. And still he could have sworn he heard someone say something...
He brushed it off of his mind and sat down. Picking up his phone, he sharply sucked in air as he saw the amount of notifications he'd received.
He'd become more and more unmotivated every time he picked it up. There's too many messages, most of them completely unimportant to him, except for some of his dearest friends, and Isaiah of course. Isaiah is his best friend, and a rock to hold onto most of the time. After replying to everyone, checking his schedule, Ryan looked down, his ocean blue eyes seemed to be glowing. The young man slowly returned to his desk and sat down, gently picking up an old book. He starts caressing the leather cover, while watching the majestic sunrise.
He didn't have much to do, he could go to the skate park, but judging by how it's not even seven in the morning, it's way too early for him to do that. He decided to study for a little and when he sat down, the morning sun hit his face like it was greeting him. He sat there for a few hours and did his best to concentrate, but once he heard his family make breakfast, he quickly decided to join them. As he got up, he noticed a really beautiful sweet smell coming from the window. It was like nothing he ever smelled before. He felt his eyelids get heavier and soon struggled to stand. What was this smell doing to him? He managed to look at the window before everything turned pitch black, he thought he saw a green flash, but it was probably just his imagination.
His head is pounding. He gasped, his eyes opened, and everything was moving. He was laying on the cold wooden floor of his room. How did he get here? He pushed himself up and let his gaze examine the room. It was still bright outside, but the sun seemed to be going down already. How long had he been knocked out?
He took a step closer to the window, inspecting it carefully, to his frustration he noticed nothing but cat pawprints in the flowerpot underneath his window. And definitely nothing that could have been the cause of that mysterious green flash.