From Up Here

24

| | Ryan | |

Ryker is the last person I thought would be knocking on my door at 2 a.m. Dragging myself out of bed and flipping on the lights as I make my way to the door, the thought of Ryker being on the other side never crossed my mind. And a drunk Ryker, definitely did not cross my mind. I thought that it would be Tilly upset over a date gone wrong or Dash coming by to apologize for our own date gone wrong earlier. Hell, I even thought that it might be Link, coming to tell me that something happened with his dad and he needs me to come help with Ryker.  

But it isn't them - it's Ryker, and he is very obviously drunk. 

"Ryker?" He looks lost, like he's unsure if he should be here. He doesn't answer me. He doesn't say anything, he just stands there staring, like he's studying me. I watch as he knits his brows together, like he's trying to solve a puzzle. He seems tense, and I notice his fingers twitching at his side. 

I'm about to ask him if he's okay when I notice his eyes land on my shirt - his shirt. I borrowed it a few weeks ago after I dropped spaghetti sauce on mine while we were cooking dinner. I meant to give it back to him, but it's so comfortable and even after I washed it, it still seems to smell like him. 

Not that I like the way he smells - not in a like kind of way. He just smells nice. I like the way he smells because it's nice. 

"Ry, are you okay?" I take a step closer to him, worried that he's too drunk to function right now. I didn't even know he drank, usually I have to coax him into having a beer or glass of wine with me, and even then he hardly ever finishes one glass. 

His fingers are still twitching at his side, but the look on his face slowly morphs into a small smile. It's crooked and soft, barely displaying the small dimple on his right cheek, but it still makes my heart jump at the sight of it. 

Forty two. 

Forty two, that's the number of sincere smiles I have seen Ryker make over the past few months. They're rare, but they are beautiful. You have to earn Ryker's smiles, just like you have to earn a conversation with him. It takes time to understand him, to not find him annoying and intolerable, but when you do - when you see one of his smiles or hear his laugh - it's worth it.

"Ry, are you okay?" I repeat, placing a hand on his cheek. When his eyes meet mine, his smile gets a little wider. "What are you smiling about?" 

"You're really pretty." 

I can feel the heat radiating off my cheeks and I pray that he's too drunk to notice. It's not that I've never been given the compliment before, but it's the source that has me blushing. Ryker doesn't say things like that, he doesn't say things like that to me. I'm still not used to the way he compliments and gushes over my work, so I'm stunned. "Th-thank you." I stutter, moving my hand back to my side. 

"You're welcome." He still has that blissful, dopey look on his face as he raises a hand to brush away a piece of my hair. Tucking it behind my ear he lets his hand linger, "I like this color." 

I'm not sure why I'm blushing anymore. Is it because Ryker is giving me compliments or is it because his hand is lightly touching my hair and brushing my skin? 

When he moves his hand, his fingers brushing my cheek, I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. "You can keep the shirt. It looks better on you."

My jaw has to be on the ground at this point. Did he really just say that? 

He turns to cross the hallway to his apartment, but staggers a bit and almost face plants on the ground before using the wall to catch his fall. I expect him to keep going, but instead he starts laughing - laugh out loud laughing as he throws his head back. 

"Ry?" I carefully make my way over to him. At this point I'm almost convinced that he's been possessed.

"I can't be - believe that I - that I have- have feel -" He can barely get the words out through his laughter, but as soon as it started, the laughter stops. His mood turns serious as his eyes search mine, like he's afraid he just said something he shouldn't have. 

"You have what?" 

"Nothing. I don't know." 

I debate pushing him, but decided to let it go. Tonight has been weird enough. "Do you want to crash on my couch?" 

He takes a look at his door, then looks back at me and nods his head. 

I help him into my apartment and he collapses on the couch, already half asleep. I get a blanket from the basket by the television and drape it over him as he watches me. "Who let you drink this much?"

"Link."

"I should have known." I shake my head, pulling his shoes off and setting them on the floor. "Get some sleep, Ryker." 

I'm halfway to my bedroom when I hear him struggle to sit up on the couch. When I turn around he's looking at me, "Hey Ryan."

"Yeah?" 

"I've always wanted a best friend." Maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's the fact that he's half asleep, but he sounds so broken. In those few words, I get a glimpse of the little boy he used to be, hiding himself away from everyone because he's different. It breaks my heart a little, but I'm so glad that he finds me worthy enough to be himself around. 

"Then it's a good thing you found me." 

The only light in the room is coming from the windows, but I can see his smile from across the room. "Thank the rooftop." He says as he lays back down.

"Thank the rooftop." I whisper as I shut my bedroom door behind me, replaying the past twenty minutes over in my mind as I absentmindedly touch my cheek where his fingers were for a brief moment.