i'll be there | cyan [c]

♕ | ryan

A/N: i'll be addressing this in, probably, all of my fics... but, in regards to josh: all fanfics w/ him in them will continue as planned. after that, i.. won't be writing him anymore. and if you haven't seen my IG, i won't be doing edits of him there anymore either.

NOW.. before you get salty: no. i'm not angry at him or anything. i'm sad he's left MIW but i'm happy if he's happy. i just?? can't?? do it?? i was lucky enough to have joined the fandom just as everyone had relaxed a bit from angelo leaving. i love him, and i love vinny, but i wasn't sad that he wasn't in MIW anymore because i wasn't attached (even tho i am now..) but josh was a different story. he'd been in the band the entire time i've been a fan, and i know that posting and/or writing about him will only make that empty pit feeling in my chest come back.

and i won't have that anymore. i've had enough of that disgusting fucking feeling these past few years and i'm done with it. i won't let it come back if i can help it. not now. not ever.

so. that's all i'm going to say about that. maybe someday i'll write him or post about him again but as of right now, it is unlikely. best of luck to him and ryan-ashley. i'll always support them, just.. silently. away from social media.

i am sorry if i have let any of you down in doing this. anyway..
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     Long brown hair fell past his shoulders, framing his face beautifully. I couldn't help but take note of his stunning eyes- they were like peridot orbs, and if not for him scuffling closer and reaching a hand out, poking me, I would have been staring all day.

Ryan was astonishing.

     He had tan skin, and his ears were that of a fox's, except they matched his hair colour. It was the same with his tail, witch was wrapped around his hips.

     Wanting to be polite, I removed my jacket and offered it to him. How he didn't seem uncomfortable with his lack of clothing in the middle of the damned woods was beyond me, but I think he might have been cold, because he snuggled right into my jacket when he took it.

     What with my height and all, my jacket covered him easily. He narrowed his eyes at me, though, looking curious as ever. He pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows,- look of determination plastered on his adorable face.

"Something wrong?" I inquired. Ryan reached a hand out and touched my face, just resting his hand on my cheek. "Human," He said after a long while. "Very.. tall." He decided as he pulled his hand away, pointing to the direction I had walked from when I arrived. "You work at.. library?" Ryan spoke.

I nodded. "I do." I answered. "Have you been following me, Ryan?" I asked. He said nothing, instead requesting my name, to which I replied, "Chris."

He nodded, saying nothing.

     He snuggled into my jacket a bit and shifted around in the way he was sitting. "I watch you. When you sleep, I mean. I watch." Ryan spoke eerily. This was like a more ominous version of, 'Are you a corn field? Because I'm stalking you.'

     Either way, I mean, I probably should have been creeped out at the very least, but he didn't surprise me in saying that.

     So, I just asked, "Why?"

     He leaned forward a bit, wide emerald eyes locked on me. "Because I see," He whispered, as if he was afraid of something. Not me, but.. something else.

     "You see what..?" I asked, just as quiet.

     He shifted closer to me, eyes narrowed. "Everything. I know. They know.. You know, too.. Too much. Which is why they watch you. And it's why I watch you. Not the same way they do.. Scary eyes and sharp teeth.. Not nice.. Very not nice," He muttered and shook his head.

     He pointed to my bag, saying, "Book? They see." He said in a hushed tone. At this point, I'm freaking the fuck out on the inside. The only book in my damn backpack is my grandma's journal.

     Yes. That journal. You know, no big deal, just the journal about freakish forrest cannibals and Bigfoot or whatever the fuck else I haven't read about yet. So I'm guessing that whoever 'they' are, aren't exactly friendly.

     "And what would they want from me?" I inquired curiously. Ryan stared at me, slowly raising his hands and resting them on top of his fox ears. He pointed his fingers up, to imitate Devil horns.

     "You know." He whispered. "They want that." He added. There was a long pause, and I contemplated slapping myself to see if I was dreaming or some shit. Ryan spoke up again, proudly saying, "Don't worry. I protect."

     He went from sounding like he was talking about my death or something, to sounding like a little kid happy at having accomplished making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich or something.

     If I die, I won't be surprised. I'd prefer not to, but you know.. it wouldn't surprise me.