They're Only Photos || Norman x Ray

40

RAY

"If you want to move on, don't wait around. Only you can make the choice to pull yourself up."

~°~
When Ray found Norman collapsed on his doorstep, he wasn't sure what the latter would do. Ignore him? Slap him? .. Kiss him?

But no. The only thing Norman did was stumble to his feet, grab Ray by the neck in an awkward hug, and sway to the side. They both almost toppled over.

"Norman!" Ray said in surprise. "What.." And then he realised that his best friend had fallen asleep.

~°~

Ray was busy making hot pot noodles when Norman woke up.

When the white-haired man had fallen asleep in his arms, Ray was so surprised that he'd just stood there for a while in shock.

After he'd come to his senses, the ravenette had half-lifted, half-dragged Norman to his living room and thrown him onto the couch.

Norman hadn't seemed to mind though. He slept through it like a baby.

Ray had then observed the various gashes and bruises on his friend's legs and face. The way his wrist bent at a weird angle.

And the blood dripping down the side of his sofa.

Panic-stricken, Ray had fucking freaked out. Obviously.

He'd considered calling the police, but .. what if Norman had just fallen into a ditch or something?

He was starting to realise he should probably call an ambulance when Norman started to thrashing in his sleep, and that was the end of it. Ray had rushed over like a paranoid mother to wrap him in blankets and soothe him that it would be alright.

Then Ray had decided to cook for them both and Norman had woken up.

"Norman," Ray said, almost collapsing out of relief. "You're awake."

The white-haired man rose groggily. He rubbed his eyes and stared at the stove. "What are you making?"

He walked over and almost faceplanted into the boiling broth.

"You first. Explain. Now."

~°~

"Holy hell," Ray breathed after Norman had explained the situation to him.

"Norman .. that's some horror movie type shit."

Norman chuckled at Ray's classic behavior.

Ray was too busy imagining what it would be like as a movie to care. He could see it now: posters up advertising the live action of how Norman Minerva had almost been killed.

Then he realised that Norman Minerva, his Norman Minerva had in reality almost been killed. This was real life.

"Fuck, Norman, are you okay?" Ray grabbed his wrist to inspect the damage and Norman yelped like a kicked dog.

"Shit, sorry," Ray cursed. He turned Norman's wrist over on his lap. It looked bad. It was swollen and bent at a strange angle. Bruises decorated it in a montage of colour, like the wool on those sweaters your grandma knits for you at Christmas.

"I think it's broken," Norman admitted.

"And your first thought was too walk around randomly in Tottori City instead of calling the police? Or an ambulance, at least?" Ray scolded, but he wasn't really mad. "Why did you even come to Tottori in the first place?"

Norman shrugged. He didn't say anything.

"Are you okay?" Ray asked. "Like, besides from almost dying. You're shaken up, are you?"