(Credits to @ rickybowen on tumblr)
Living next to Richard ‘Ricky’ Bowen wasn’t fun. You weren’t fond of him, to out it simoly, and you never got along ever since he moved into the house next to yours when you were five.You lived with your dad — your mom had left a a few years ago without so much as a kiss to your head and a promise that she’d come back some day.The week she had left, Ricky had found you out on your roof, blanket over your huddled form as you looked up at the stars. “What’re you doing, Y/N?” he asked from his room window, the usual sarcasm he had when speaking to you replaced by confusion and concern. He was looking outside his window, his head turned to you.You wanted to talk back, you really did. You wanted to tell him to go away and to leave you alone and ignore you. But the most you could manage was a sob, for the lump in your throat became too much to bear.Ricky ran outside, yelling up at you to help him get up to your roof. You let him in that night, not only into your house but into the problems into your life.You sniffed, angrily rubbing off the tears from your eyes as you sat next to the one boy you couldn’t stand. “She’s been gone for 6 days now,” you mumbled, voice hoarse as you looked up at the night sky. “She said she was gonna go visit my grandma. She doesn’t know where she is.” Your voice broke, walls crashing down into dust as another sob left your chest.Wordlessly, Ricky moved closer to you, allowing you to put your head on his shoulder and cry.It was a repeated process after that. In public, you’d both pretend nothing ever happened. You’d pick fights and arguments with each other, when in reality you both relied on each other when the night came around.It took a while for you and your dad to move on. Your dad threw himself into work in order to forget, and you became a recluse that barely spoke to anyone besides a handful of people. But as you began to move on, the second half of your relationship with Ricky vanished. You stayed out of his business, and him out of yours.The part that stayed was the disliking you had with each other. The witty remarks and arguments in class never stopped and only grew as the years went on. You never spoke to each other in any other way that wasn’t condescending.The knock you received on your door terrified you.It was 3 AM and you were up ( naturally ). Your dad had worked the night shift, and you were home alone with your three year old German Shepherd; a gift from your dad after your mom left.With your dog hot on your heels and a metal bat in your hand, you crept down the stairs. You raised the bat with one hand, motioning for your dog to sit before you looked through the peephole in your door.Ricky Bowen, covered in a blanket and looking down at his sandals, was on your front doorstep.You let out a small sigh of relief, leaning your bat against the wall and opening the door. You opened your mouth, about to jump to conclusions about what he was doing at your door, until your gaze softened.“Come inside,” you said, opening the door wider and shutting it behind him.His eyes were puffy and red, and he was hiccuping. He had been crying.You opened the lights, leading him to your kitchen and occasionally looking back at him. You wanted to ask him so many questions, but you bit your tongue as you quietly prepared a mug of hot chocolate. Ricky could explain in his own time.You paused for just a second before continuing to stir the mug, allowing him to speak.“We got the call today,” Ricky swallowed, tears blurring his vision as he looked down at the grey blanket he wrapped himself in. “She met someone new.” A few tears dripped from his face, and he gulped down the lump in his throat again.Silently, you walked back to him and placed the mug in front of him, sitting down next to him. He took the mug gratefully, raising it up to his lips and taking a sip.“How long has this been going on?” you asked, eyes set on him. You haven’t spoken to Mike or Lynne Bowen since you were six, when you rang Ricky’s doorbell to tell to give your toy back. You didn’t even know his parents had problems until now.“A while.” Ricky avoided your gaze, wiping the tears from his eyes. “I thought it was gonna pass,” he whispered with a sniff. “But it got so much worse.”You scooted closer to him, bringing him into your arms and letting him cry quietly into your shoulder. He murmured little nothings under his breath, something along the lines of, ‘I don’t know what to do anymore,’ that made your heart break.You nodded to yourself, feeling strong sense of déjà vu as you thought of his situation. You pulled away gently, his hand reaching up to wipe the tears from his face. “We can talk upstairs if you want,” you offered with a close lipped smile.You both made your way up the stairs to your room, and you opened the door for him to enter first. It was different from when he last saw it. Photos adorned your wall, paired with paintings and random doodles. Glowing stars were glued to the ceiling, and the same blanket that Ricky had comforted you in a few years ago hung over your chair. But his eyes stayed on one photo on your wall.“I did it while I was mad at her,” you explained, eyeing him as he stared at the photo. “I did it with all the photos I had of her. I thought,” you sighed, sitting on your bed. “that she didn’t love me. And maybe she didn’t.”Ricky pursed his lips, eyes downcast as he thought. He hadn’t heard from you and how your home life was going in a while. In a way, he was worried that it had gotten worse. Last time he saw it, your mom was in the picture. She was holding 4 year old you, while you smiled crazily at the camera in a bucket hat and sunglasses that were too big for your face. You tore her out of the picture— literally. Rips adorned one side of the picture.Ricky missed helping you through your problems.You wanted to pay him back for it.“I know,” you exhaled. “I know you don’t want to talk to her about it. But Ricky, if she’s still talking to you, you need to talk to her.”“My mom didn’t want anything to do with me.” You turned your body to him, making him look up. You were looking at him intensely, seriousness the only thing in your eyes. “If she cares enough to even tell you where she is then you need to talk to her.”“You didn’t talk to your mom.”“Pushing her out of your life isn’t going to help.”“She pushed me out of hers,” Ricky snapped, emotions running wild and eyes glassy with tears. “It’s only been two weeks and she already has a new boyfriend. It’s not fair how she can just move on like she didn’t just leave my dad and I here.” His voice broke, and without a word you pulled him to you. Sobs wracked his body, mumbled of, ‘it isn’t fair,’ escaping his lips as you hugged him tight.“Y/N, she left me.” Ricky’s brows furrowed, his spitting his words out as if they were poison on his tongue. “She, She left my dad and I here like we were nothing and met someone new—““How’re you so sure?” he asked quietly with a sniff, feeling your thumbs skim over his skin and practically moving into them.“You’ll get through this,” you stated, voice firm as you offered a reassuring smile that made Ricky’s heart skip a beat.Your hands ran through his hair, the action soothing him as he cried against you. You pulled away from him, taking his face into your hands and wiping away the tears gently.His eyes darted from your lips to your eyes, and when he looked into your eyes he saw you were doing the same. Gently, he placed his lips onto yours.“I just know, Ricky.”He tasted like hot chocolate and cinnamon. You tasted like mint and the cold. Ricky’s eyes shut, his lips moving slowly against yours and more tears falling down his face. Wave upon wave of emotions were crashing over him, and you were the only raft he could cling onto.You pulled your lips away from his, leaning up to kiss him gently on the forehead. Ricky laid his head on your neck, your hands combing through his hair and bringing him a moment of peace that he needed.“You’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”
Word count:1527
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