Prompt 13: "Looks like we're gonna be stuck here for a while."
Word count: 1 979 (I've got no self controll when it comes to Ryans)
"Which room you said?" You pressed the phone to you ear with the help of your shoulder, trying to understand Dallon on the other end. "The recording room? Okay, got it."
Hanging up and shoving the phone into your pocket, you changed the hand in which you were carrying the heavy tool box. You were the person for everything around the recording studio, be it cooking coffee, repairing broken amps, or fixing loose chair legs. Just a couple of minutes ago Dallon had called you about a broke light bulb in the recording room, and now you wanted to fix it before going home for the night.
Through the window in the room with all the panels, you saw that the light in the recording room was still burning, and the sounds of a drum set were audible. Stepping closer to the window you recognized Ryan, who was playing around with a few beats, seemingly trying to fit them together somehow.
You hesitated for a moment. Over the past weeks you had grown increasingly fond of the drummer, and you had the feeling that this was not the best thing, considering he probably did not even know you existed. But on the other hand you were in and out of there in under three minutes, and then you could go home, so collecting your courage, you walked to the door, and pushed it open.
Ryan immediately stopped playing, and looked up at you.
"Hey," you greeted awkwardly, but Ryan just smiled as friendly as always, "Dallon called me about the broken light bulb."
You looked around the room and spotted the hole in the pattern of light sources that were spread all over the ceiling.
"Oh, yeah, thank you," Ryan nodded, "do you need help?"
"Nah, I'm fine," you told him.
Pulling the door closed behind you, you placed your toolkit on the floor, before you walked over to a chair which you pulled under the spot where the light was broken. Ryan watched you carefully.
"Shouldn't we turn of the lights or something, so you don't get electrocuted," he asked concerned.
"It's fine," you told him, "they have these special switches in here, see," you pointed to a small white dot next to the gap where the light bulbs were installed in the ceiling, "let's me switch of each light on its own."
You climbed onto the chair, and pressed the little button, before reaching to where you expected to find the broken bulb.
"Hm, that's weird," you mumbled and climbed off the chair again, getting a torch and a new light bulb from your tool box.
"What's wrong," Ryan inquired immediately, standing up, and walking over to you.
"There is no broken light bulb, there isn't a bulb at all," you explained, shining the light of the torch into the hole to be sure.
Then you took the torch between your teeth, and screwed in the new lamp, before pressing the small white button again, turning on the light.
"Some really funny person must've taken the bulb out without replacing it," you shrugged, preparing to climb of the chair.
Ryan offered you his hand for support which you gladly, but nervously, took.
"That's it," he asked, sounding almost a little disappointed.
"Yeah, no rocket science," you grinned, grabbed your box, and walked over to the door.
But when you pressed down the handle, it would not open. You tried it again, both pushing and pulling, even though you knew exactly that you had to push, but the door did not move.
"Forgot something," Ryan asked, still standing under the newly shining lamp.
"The- the door is locked," you told him, turning around in confusion.
"You have to push," he laughed.
"I know, I tried that," you turned back to the door, and tried it again, but to no avail.
"Here, let me, sometimes it's a bit hard."
You stepped aside, and watched as Ryan tried his luck, but failed as well.
"Yup, the door is locked," he agreed.
"How did that happen," you wondered, placing the toolkit down, "I didn't lock it when I came in, I don't even have keys."
"Neither do I..."
So the door had been locked from the outside.
You walked over to the window to the control room, pressing your nose against the window and shielding the sides of your faces with your hands as to blend out the reflecting lights.
"There's someone," you exclaimed, and knocked against the glass, "hey, excuse me, could you unlock the door, please?"
Ryan stepped next to you, already trying copy your posture, but then the light on the other side turned on, revealing Dallon standing by the door.
"Not before the two of you have had a serious talk in there," he declared, before he walked out of the door, and the lights on the other side turned off again.
"What-" both Ryan and you stood there, mouths hanging open.
Ryan was the first one to move; after all he knew what this was about.
"I hate him," he mumbled, walking back to his drum set, and sitting down.
"Great, I wanted to go home," you whined, "Hey Dallon, I want to go home!"
You were fully aware that he could not hear you.
Throwing your arms up in the air you sat down on the chair you had used as a ladder.
"Looks like we're gonna be stuck here for a while," you mumbled to yourself, and Ryan nodded.
For a few minutes you were sitting in silence, thinking about why Dallon might have locked you in here. Surely it was a stupid prank between him and Ryan, and you had just gotten in the way, right? But then you thought about what he had said about the two of you talking. Talking about what? You turned to look at Ryan, who swivelled around on his chair.
"Hey, you don't happen to know what Dallon was on about when he said we should talk, do you," you asked, hoping that maybe Ryan had a clue.
"No idea," he shrugged but his voice was unusually high.
Questioningly you raised your eyebrows at him. When he caught your glance, his shoulder slumped.
"If I'm right, it's about something I told him a while ago, but that doesn't give you the right to lock us in here Dallon, do you hear me?"
The last part he spoke to the windows. But he was only greeted with silence.
"What did you tell him that made him lock you up," you giggled, curious by now.
Ryan shrugged.
"Not important."
You considered disagreeing, but if this was between Ryan and Dallon you had no right to know about it.
"How long do you think he'll keep us here," you wondered, getting up from your chair, and walking towards the window.
"As I know him, he could play the game the entire night," Ryan mumbled.
You took a glance at your wrist watch. About eight hours until the first people were scheduled for recording. Unless one of you needed a bathroom, you should be about fine.
"Well, he sure is stubborn," you sighed.
"Oh, you have no idea," Ryan answered.
After you had walked around a little, you settled on the floor, your back leaning against the wall.
"Do you need to call anyone, let them know you're gonna be late," Ryan asked, when he saw you were fidgeting around with your mobile.
"Who would I need to call," you asked back, making him shrug.
"Dunno, a boyfriend maybe, or girlfriend," he suggested.
"Nah," you shook your head, "got neither. You?"
"Nope," Ryan answered, popping the p.
For a while there was silence. You had leant your head back against the wall, and studied the ceiling, not noticing that Ryan was studying you.
"I told him that I like you, and that I want to ask you out, but don't know how."
Ryan's voice was quiet, but clear, and surprised you lifted your head, the words taking a moment to get processed in your mind.
"Really," you wondered.
"Yeah, I've never known how to do these things, I'm not really good with words," he admitted.
"No, I mean... you like me?"
Ryan looked up from the drum set which he had been staring at.
"Well, yes."
The confession hung between the two of you for a moment, like a thin rope between the edges of two cliffs, but just when you were about to speak, he looked away.
"Sorry," he mumbled.
"Sorry for what," you asked, still not sure you had understood correctly.
"Making it awkward. It's obvious you're not interested, but you'll still have to work here while I'm around and-"
"Hey, hold your horses! I never said I'm not interested," you protested, "and I never said I don't like you either. And technically you haven't even asked."
Ryan looked back over to where you were sitting, furrowing his brows as if he was thinking really hard.
"So if I'd ask you out on a date with me, you'd-"
"I'd say yes," you completed the sentence.
"And if I asked you if you like me..."
"I'd say I like you back."
"Well, in that case," a relieved smile flooded over his face, making the sad puppy eyes disappear, "What about a movie, and dinner afterwards? I know this really sweet Italian place."
"Tomorrow, eight," you suggested.
"I'll pick you up from work?"
"It's a date," you smiled, making him nod in agreement.
"Now was that so hard?"
Without either of you noticing, Dallon had returned into the control room.
"You bastard," Ryan jumped up from behind his drum kit.
"See, you got a date now, you should thank me for this," Dallon laughed behind the window.
Quickly you scrambled to your feet.
"Yeah, yeah, great. We all got what we wanted. Can you let us out now," you asked impatiently.
"First I want to see a kiss."
Behind the glass Dallon crossed his arms in front of his chest, a triumphant smile on his face.
"Dallon!"
"Who cares Ryan, let's kiss and go home, or he's gonna keep is in here for eternity."
Ryan had obviously not expected you to give into Dallon's request so easily, judging by the expression on his face.
"You really don't have to. I don't want him to force you into anything you don't want to do," Ryan told you sincerely, but from the way he was looking at you it was obvious how much he wanted to kiss you.
"He's not, don't worry," you told him, grabbing his collar, and pulling him in for a kiss.
Ryan did not hesitate for a moment to wrap you in his arms, pulling you into his chest.
"See, that was easy, well done," Dallon commented, unlocking the door. "Now I'm happy."
"You're a dead man, Dallon," Ryan growled, pulling away from the kiss, but you held onto his shirt, stopping him from storming out of the room, while Dallon escaped giggling into the corridor.
"Hey, calm down," you laughed.
"Sorry," Ryan shrugged, an embarrassed smile on his lips, "He's just always so cocky."
You nodded in agreement.
"Hey, how about we don't wait until tomorrow with the dinner," you suggested, while you grabbed your tool box, and stepped out of the room you had been trapped in, "the Egyptian place down the street should still be open."
"Sounds perfect," Ryan smiled, following you out into the corridor and turned off the lights behind him.
Side by side you walked down the hallway, and you dropped off the toolbox at the small kitchen, where it was stored, before Ryan led out outside into the night, hesitantly brushing his hand against yours. When your fingers immediately curled around his, he smiled happily and intertwined your hands with each other. Maybe he really would have to thank Dallon for this.