Ryden Oneshots

33 Vertebrae And A Spinal Cord

Staring was wrong. Watching like this was wrong. But what could you say? A cheerful, casual hello was definitely not an option.

“… Ryan?” Your voice had sounded so alien, even to you.

Then he looked up at you, eyes wide and wet and still soft, but so full of emotions you had never seen in them before. He was trying to keep his bottom lip from trembling, trying to pull in on himself; and it was then that you decided it was the most heartbreaking image you had seen in your entire life.

Your backpack was forgotten on the floor then and your legs were making their way towards the broken boy in quick, long strides. You still had no idea what to say or what to do, but you knew you had to do something other than stand there. And then you were kneeling in front of him and looking up into that tear-stained face, your heart stirring and twisting in on itself.

“What’s wrong?”

Probably the stupidest and most pointless question to ask in these situations, but it was all that would come from your lips. And it was exactly what Ryan needed to trigger the complete breakdown.

His arms wrapped around himself and he was sobbing, and shaking, and babbling about something that had to do with his dad, and words that were said, and things that hurt and how he didn’t want to go home. And your arms wrapped around him, and you held him, and you murmured things about how it was going to be okay even though you knew he didn’t believe them and you knew you didn’t understand or know anything about what he was saying. All you knew was that you had to hold him, because no one else was there to do it and Ryan couldn’t cry by himself because that thought alone was just so wrong.

The sobs and the babbling both stopped eventually and you pulled away. Practice went on as normal despite Ryan’s ruined liner and the streaks on his cheeks, because everyone else already knew. Ryan stayed the night at Spencer’s and you went home.

The two of you never talked about it.
---
He was eating even less a few weeks later and that smile you had just grown used to had faded away into merely a shadow. Practices were shorter even though he hardly ever went home afterwards. Christmas was coming but you’d never be able to tell it from the look in his now dull brown eyes. You still didn’t have the heart to ask, so you remained silent and on the sidelines as Spencer led him up to his room while you and Brent packed up to leave.

The night before Christmas Eve marked a drastic shift in the tide. Your phone rang and you picked it up with confusion, knowing that there no practice since both Spencer and Brent were out of town, and also knowing that Ryan never called you. And, not that you were a total loser or anything, but they were really the only people in your phonebook that ever called you. When you saw Ryan’s name come up something dropped into the pit of your stomach and started swimming around.

Your ringtone was almost finished when you finally picked up the call, your voice feeling thick in your throat as you mumbled out something that resembled a greeting. There was a moment of silence and you could’ve sworn you heard a soft sniff before Ryan replied.

“Can I come over?” His voice was the softest you’d ever heard it and whatever had been swimming in your stomach did a back flip and landed in your throat. You figure you must have agreed because within what felt like seconds your doorbell was ringing and you were opening the door.

Ryan had never looked so small in your eyes before. His eyes remained stuck on the ground, his bottom lip hiding behind his straight white teeth, and his feet shifting on the cold concrete doorstep. Just like the day in the basement, you found yourself frozen.

What could you do to help when you didn’t have the slightest clue what was wrong? When you didn’t understand and could never understand?

But he made it much easier for you this time as he folded into you, shoulders shaking and tears falling quietly from his eyes.
---
From that night on the two of you started to talk. It began with simple things, like which stores you liked to shop in or what you thought about someone in the neighborhood; and gradually evolved into discussions about your favorite harmonies and how you liked the cold wind on your face while he longed for the warm, salty air of the ocean.