Give Me a Life || Ryden

1

(Short chapter for the beginning, they will get longer as time progresses (: )

It's what seemed to be smoke, slipping out of the exhale of Brendon's nose, but no, it was the hot mixed with cold air of a winter night.
Although nicotine would sound so desirable right now, signs point to no. Why? Must you ask. That "why" goes by the name of Ryan. Just Ryan, no more, no less, to you, to Brendon, to strangers, and to "family."
Brendon zipped up his vest and swayed to Ryan, as if life gave its own theme music.
"What's it feel like?" Brendon asks as he curiously watches Ryan smoke the ashes and ashes of a cigarette.
"You don't wanna know." Ryan let out. Addicted would be the word for what it feels like, but Brendon doesn't know that, he never has, and he never will.
"But I do..." Brendon always seemed to contradict Ryan.
"No, you don't. Now stop asking." Ryan's voice wasn't as gentle now, he wanted to give Brendon a soft apology, but decided that now may not be the best time.
"Why do you always do this?" Brendon spoke up after a few minutes of silence.
"Do what?" Ryan put the cigarette back down, still between his fingers as he rested his body against the barrier of the bridge.
"This." Brendon gestured to Ryan and himself while trying to think of words.
"This? I don't think I understand." The older boy cocked his head, still waiting for a proper answer.
"Not letting me do things, when you do it, a-and saying you're "protecting me" when I really think you're not reasonable." The smaller boy said softly while looking down.
Ryan was quick to stamp out little bit he had left of his cigarette. He lifted Brendon's head by his chin with two fingers.
"Because, I love you." Those words slip from his mouth, way better than any supply of smoke.

  Love me? Brendon thought. He's never mentioned love, probably doesn't even know what it is.
"Love me?" Brendon asked.
"Love you." Ryan simply stated back.
Well i've never even realized that it could even be a feeling between us. I never thought about love with me and Ryan. I just don't see it. He helped me get through the bumps on my end of the road, but love? Love.
Ryan was and still is a storm. A storm in Brendon's brain. A tornado of anger, mixed with a tsunami of tears from when he cried. A tsunami. Not realizing the damage, or not realizing he's crying at all. Every yell, every burn, every scream, every tear, brings Brendon to his mental state that he can't bare. But love? No.
Ryan was the wind, Ryan was the rain, Ryan was the sunshine, and he was that lonely moonlight.

And to Brendon. He didn't give a damn about the weather.

But since when did Ryan care. He made efforts so Brendon wouldn't  die. He understood that. But Ryan didn't care when he scraped his knee, got that concussion from falling down the stairs, or even self care. He just seemed to keep Brendon out of drugs..
Brendon is by far not the weather, that's Ryan.
But it never gave a damn about him.