attention | gyuricky

seventeen.

Gyuvin awakens in the middle of the night for the second time in two weeks. His vision is blurry and his head feels like it's full of cotton balls, but as he swallows the dryness in his throat away and blinks fast to get his eyes to work right, he hears it again, except this time it's less of loud breathing and more of suppressed sobs.

He's out of bed within seconds, ignoring the way blood rushes to his head when he stands, stumbling blindly in the semi-darkness over to Ricky's bed. Ricky's not under the blanket this time; he's curled up, elbows over his knees, so tense Gyuvin can see how white his knuckles are where his fingers are buried in his pale hair. He's rocking back and forth softly, mumbling something Gyuvin can't hear because his head's buried too deep in the sleeves of his sweatshirt, and he almost instinctively knows it's worse than the last time.

"Ricky," he says quietly, trying his best to get the other boy's attention without startling him. "Ricky, it's just a nightmare. Can you hear me?"

There's no response, and Gyuvin almost begins to doubt if Ricky can even hear what he's saying, but from the way his fingers are gripping his hair, almost manic, as if he's not even in control of himself, Gyuvin knows he should step in before Ricky ends up hurting himself one way or another.

"Ricky, listen to me-" Gyuvin places his hands gently on Ricky's, and the other boy's fingers are ice cold beneath his as he tries to loosen the grip the other boy's tense fingers have on his hair.

"No, no, I'm sorry..." Ricky shakes his head, almost desperately, resisting Gyuvin's attempts to distract him, burying his face deeper into his arms. His shoulders are heaving and from the way he's mumbling to himself it's clear he isn't fully coherent and possibly doesn't even know he's awake, but Gyuvin presses on, placing both hands firmly on each side of Ricky's face, forcing him to look up.

"Ricky, you're awake. Listen to me, you're awake, and whatever it is, it's not real," he says, gently but resolutely, without breaking eye contact. "It's over, okay?"

Ricky's dark eyes, in the illumination of the light spilling in from the living room, look almost frenzied, like his brain still hasn't acknowledged exactly where he is, and Gyuvin doesn't let go of him until his eyes lose that manic, crazed quality, and the heaving of his shoulders becomes more like he's trying to catch his breath than like he's hyperventilating, and then he lets his hands fall, sitting back down in front of Ricky.

The other boy doesn't move, still curled up into himself, but his hands are still, limp by his sides as he sits in silence, breath slowing, evening out. Ricky doesn't look up anymore, but he knows Gyuvin's there.

Gyuvin senses he's stable enough to be left alone and moves to get up to go into the kitchen to get him a glass of water like the last time, but as he stands he feels a tug on his sleeve, almost sending him off balance.

"Can you stay here a little longer?" Ricky's voice is audibly raw and he coughs a little as he looks away, and Gyuvin sits back down where he was before, letting his arm fall where the other boy's been holding it, into his lap.

He waits for Ricky to push his hand away but he doesn't, and they sit there without talking for a while longer, Ricky's fingers grasping at the soft, worn sleeve of Gyuvin's hoodie, before he eventually looks up and lets his fingers drift away.

"I'm sorry I woke you," he says softly, as he lies back against the headboard of his bed, running one hand through his disheveled hair.

"It's okay," Gyuvin says. "Do you think you can go back to sleep?"

Ricky's still for a moment, then he shakes his head slowly.

"Look, you already know I talked to Zhanghao about you, so you can continue being mad at me about that later," Gyuvin continues. "But he said in the past, when your nightmares were bad, he would sleep next to you. Do you want me to go get him?"

"I'm not talking to him right now," Ricky answers softly. "And it's the middle of the night. He's asleep."

"Then, would it help if I stayed here? Just for a while, till you fall back asleep."

Ricky chews at his lip, as if he can't decide, then nods, slowly, deliberately. Gyuvin doesn't say anything more, moving from where he's sitting to the floor beside Ricky's bed so the other boy has space for his legs. He lies down on his side, facing Gyuvin, gaze lingering on the other boy's face for a long moment before he closes his eyes, settling back down on the pillow.

Gyuvin sits in silence just watching the gentle movement of breathing Ricky's body makes, even, stable. As the minutes pass all he does is observe; the way the furrow that's usually present in Ricky's eyebrows disappears, the way his eyelashes are so long they drape across the bottom lids of his closed eyes, the way his hair falls over his forehead, the way his lips are red and marked with spots of blood that tell Gyuvin it's his nervous habit to chew on them without thinking.

Someone or something had hurt him irreparably, back in the final year of high school, and he has never really recovered from it since then, that much is clear. He'd said he was sorry, when Gyuvin had first shaken him out of his mania. Perhaps Ricky's recurring nightmares were somewhat, maybe even entirely, driven by some manifestation of guilt or regret he'd never been able to get past. 

His heart hurts, and he wonders what it must be like to be haunted by demons so deep in his own head he couldn't even escape them in his sleep. 

Gyuvin awakens again when the sun is already streaming into the bedroom, and Ricky's hand is on his shoulder, shaking him gently. He doesn't remember falling asleep last night, but considering he's in the same position he last remembers being in, sitting cross-legged on the floor with his arms propped up on Ricky's bed, he must have drifted off sometime during the night.

"I thought you might want to move back to your own bed," Ricky says softly, leaning down to check if he's awake. "It doesn't look comfortable sleeping like that."

Gyuvin blinks up at him, momentarily blinded by the sunlight, but his vision adjusts quickly. Ricky's eyes are a little swollen, a remnant of his breakdown from last night, but other than that he's his regular put-together self, and Gyuvin thinks in passing it's no wonder he'd never known Ricky was troubled; he was really, really good at hiding it.

"Not angry at me anymore, huh?" Gyuvin answers, a little snark, but mostly lighthearted. It's too early in the morning to be antagonising people.

Ricky drops his hand, turning away. "I never said that."

Apparently, for Ricky, it's never too early to antagonise anyone.

Gyuvin stands, losing his balance a little as his knees protest from where they've been locked in one position the entire night. "I'm sorry, Ricky," he says, reaching out to catch the other boy's sleeve before he can walk away. "I really am. I shouldn't have talked to Hao behind your back, and I shouldn't have said all those things yesterday."

"Yeah," Ricky answers, not looking back. "You shouldn't have."

"But isn't there anything I can do?" Gyuvin continues, unrelenting. "I promise I just want to help. It really sucked seeing you like that, the way you were last night."

"I'm sorry I woke you," Ricky answers, slipping his keys into the back pocket of his slacks. "I'll try to be quieter next time."

"That's really not what I-"

The door closes quietly, and Gyuvin's left standing in the kitchen in his pajamas.

"..meant."

He sighs, heading back into the bedroom and flopping facedown onto the bed. Five hours of sleep isn't nearly enough for him to deal with anyone, let alone Ricky. It's a Monday, but he doesn't have any classes scheduled till the afternoon, and he makes sure to set an alarm before he drifts off again, this time in his own bed.