Le Monde Dans Vos Yeux // The World In Your Eyes

Chapter 11

They lay there quietly, watching the sunset carry their worries away. But soon, Jon would be back.

"I better go," Ryan whispered. He was close, closer than he ever thought he would get to Brendon. But he wasn't complaining.

Brendon pouted, and almost made him forget about why he needed to go.

He chuckled lightly and kissed Brendon's pout. "Call me? S'il vous plait?"

"Mhm. Okay." Their voices were still quiet, like they needed to be careful, in hopes they didn't disturb whatever power had brought them there. Brought them to the bliss they were in. Right here. Right now.

Brendon watched as Ryan stumbled across the bedroom and into the living room to find his clothes, and wondered how such a skinny man could contain so much fail. But he loved it.

Ryan came back to the bed, fully clothed, and set Brendon's clothes next to him. He kissed his forehead and smiled. "À bientôt."

"Bye." And Brendon didn't notice the cloudy tone to his voice. But Ryan did.

When Brendon woke again in the morning, he had a sinking feeling in his stomach. Someone should be here, but wasn't. His mind registered Ryan.

But he realized then, that it wasn't his mind repeating the mantra of Ryan, Ryan, Ryan. It was his heart. His heart, and also accompanied by another member further south, it called for Ryan. But he realized then... He had just done exactly what he said he wouldn't do. Paris was too cliché to fall in... The word was too cliché. His feelings... too cliché.

What had he been thinking? Was he really in love? Did he love Ryan? He knew Jon was right. Jon was always right. But it couldn't last. He was leaving on Monday. Monday... was two days away. He would have to get on the bus for Las Vegas and leave Ryan behind. Why should he do that to Ryan? Why should he do that to himself?

He'd already gotten in too far. But he could still turn back.

At one point, he had pulled out his French dictionary, and looked up Ryan's words of "Si je vous donne mon monde, allez-vous me donner votre?" He sighed in confliction when the translation came up as, If I give you my world, will you give me yours?

~

Sunday afternoon, Ryan checked his phone again for the third time... in the past five minutes.

Spencer frowned from behind the register. "Maybe you should call him."

"I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"There must be a reason he's not calling me. There... has to be a reason."

Spencer rolled his eyes. "So call and find out what that reason is."

Ryan sighed and checked his phone again. No missed call. No messages. No texts. None, especially from a certain chocolate-haired-amazingly-beautiful Brendon.

"You know what, Ryan. Stop being such a girl. Man up. Go tell him how you feel."

"I di—"

"In English."

Ryan looked at his feet. "It's not that easy."

"Like hell it's not. Listen. It's simple. It may not be easy to trust someone. Especially if it's you we're talking about, but he obviously likes you. A lot. I mean, you slept with him."

Ryan shifted his eyes to the nearby customers, a little self-conscious to be talking about his love life in public. He knew they couldn't understand their English, but still. "If he cared about me so much, why hasn't he called? He probably just wanted to get me in bed before he left."

Spencer stared. "Does he really strike you as that kind of person? Do you think I'd let you be so involved with someone like that?"

Ryan only shrugged.

"Tomorrow, at eight, his bus leaves. You better be there. Or you'll regret it forever." Spencer knew Ryan wouldn't do it without his prodding. Ryan never did anything good for him without being told to do so. He'd sit here at the café and sulk.