I sat and studied him.
His head rested against a pillow on the footboard of the bunk, his neck bent awkwardly but not uncomfortably. He stared ahead of him, long fingers brushing past his thigh and finding a small, sharp object by his side. He took it in his hand, holding it like a pencil and drawing it back behind his head. Lips tight in concentration, he brought his hand forward, releasing the dart and watching it fly through the air. It hit the board above his bed, sticking into the cork with a dull sound.
He was also inexplicably beautiful. I had noticed that four years ago.
His eyes flickered to the side, finding mine for a split second before I looked away, turning my gaze down to the match made in heaven, also known as Jon and Spencer. My face fell as I watched them, giggling, kissing, whispering, enjoying each other...things that I would never ever share with the beautiful boy across the room from me.
He had made that clear to me four years ago.
Jon looked at me, a flash of sorrow passing across his face. No, it wasn't sorrow, it was pity. He turned back to his lover, smile returning as he said something I couldn't hear to him. Pain seizing my stomach, I laid down and turned towards the wall, tears silently making their humble way down my face and onto the bedsheets.
I heard quiet laughter coming from Spencer's bunk and grasped a fistful of sheets between my fingers, funneling all my energy into crushing something that couldn't physically be crushed. Something that operated in a much different way than myself.
I started as I heard a small creak and became aware of weight on the bed behind me.
"Go away," I mumbled, embarrassed. Guys weren't supposed to cry, not in this clueless society.
"Bren, what's wrong?" A soft voice. Perfect, smooth, like melted chocolate. Impeccable. It made my heart rip in half.
I felt his hands on my back, gently massaging my shoulders. "Nothing," I lied quietly. I wasn't going to give in to him or anyone else.
"Brendon."
"Leave me alone."
I shuddered as his arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling my back into his abdomen, enclosing me in their warmth and making me shudder. He was teasing me, and I was not amused.
"Okay, Mr. Straight Guy," I began irately, but before I could continue, a finger was on my lips, silencing me. I turned around in his arms to face him, and to no surprise, he was smirking.
I wiped my eyes, a faint smile tugging at my lips. "Sorry," I said, apologizing for my outburst.
"Hey," he said, tone ironic. "You're not as subtle as you think."
"Wha-" Before I could begin to comprehend what he was saying, his lips were being pressed to mine for a split second before he was gone, dropping down from the bunk and making his way over to his own.
Mouth hanging open in utter shock, I rolled back over to face the wall.
I had been kissed by an angel fallen to earth, an angel known by the name of Ryan Ross.