All Was Golden

F O U R

"Ryan? Hey, Ryan?"

Someone gently shook Ryan's shoulder as they called out to him. He scrunched his nose as he was pulled away from whatever darkness he had known before the light beyond his eyelids became apparent. He opened his eyes a crack, but immediately shut them due to the light.

"Sorry." There was a shuffling noise followed by a click.

Ryan opened his eyes again to a darker environment. He inhaled a sharp breath before stretching out his limbs.

"Feel like getting off the floor?"

"Hmm?" Ryan rubbed his eyes before looking at his surroundings.

He was laying on his carpet with a thick blanket at his feet and the box from the closet to his side. He rolled onto his back to see Patrick looking down at him and offering a hand.

"Thanks." Ryan grabbed it and brought himself to his feet. "I must have rolled off the bed or something..." He looked at the box, but it was sealed. He could have sworn he had opened it...

"Are you okay?" Patrick asked, his brow furrowed. "Pete and I went out late and when we came home the neighbor said she heard screaming. I didn't bother you last night cuz I could hear you snoring but I really wanted to check on you this morning." His cheeks turned an slight shade of pink as he spoke and his eyes fell to the floor about halfway through his words. He also seemed to notice that he still held onto Ryan's hand from helping him up. He apologized and quickly let go.

"Oh, no, it's fine." Ryan smiled, though it faltered when he thought of the previous night. The silhouette racing closer before grabbing hold of his tie and pulling. Ryan rubbed his hand along the base of his neck. "I don't remember too much from last night." He lied.

"As long as you're okay." Patrick smiled back. "I'm making breakfast, want some?"

"That would be nice." Ryan agreed. Patrick turned to leave the room while Ryan looked back at the box.

The cardboard looked undisturbed, despite Ryan's certainty that he had opened the box. He could have sworn he even took something out...

"Ryan?" Patrick was at the doorway, looking back at him.

Ryan cleared his throat. "Yea, sorry, I'm coming." He forced himself to look away from the box and followed after Patrick.

When they reached the kitchen, Patrick motioned to the round table that sat just outside the space. "Go ahead and sit. I'll bring it out."

Ryan tried to argue, but Patrick was insistent. He wandered over to the table and sat down on one of the shaky wooden chairs they had collectively purchased from a second hand store. Pete and Patrick had somehow managed to find a light wood matching pair while Ryan had chosen one with dark wood and a deep red cushion. The fourth chair was a color somewhere between the other two styles, picked by... Him.

Ryan turned his chair so it was harder to see from the side of his eye.

Patrick came back in the room with two plates full of eggs and toast. He slid one in front of Ryan before placing one in front of his chair.

"Pete not eating?" Ryan asked as he lifted his fork to poke at his eggs.

Patrick shook his head. "He left for work already." He took a bite of toast as silence seemed to overtake the short lived conversation.

Ryan stabbed at a few pieces of egg and nibbled on his toast, but he couldn't seem to find his appetite. His mind kept wandering back to the box. Had he resealed it before falling asleep? Had he even opened it at all? He couldn't land on a convincing answer.

"Ryan?"

"Hmm?" Ryan looked up from his plate.

Patrick was pushing chunks of egg around his plate, but his eyes were on Ryan. "What was that box by the wall?" He asked.

"Oh..." Ryan bit his lip, "Just old stuff from the closet." He shrugged. Old stuff from the closet that belonged to Him.

"Oh." Patrick nodded. He slid some egg onto his fork and brought it to his mouth. It was quiet as he chewed, and Ryan looked away, but his soft voice carried across the table a moment later. "If you need help with anything, I'm here for you. You know that, right?"

Ryan couldn't bring himself to look up at Patrick again. He kept his eyes focused on his plate as he blinked rapidly to hold moisture back. "Yea, I know..."

The rest of the meal was quiet. Ryan finished his plate first and rinsed it off in the sink before hurrying back to his room.

He leaned against the back of the door, sinking to the floor as soon as he heard the closing click. He let his legs stretch out on the ground in front of him while wrapping his arms around his torso.

Was it really so bad that he couldn't take care of it on his own? It was just a box. How could it really hurt him?

Tears dropped freely from his eyes as he looked across the room. The blanket trailed just past the end of the bed, leading his eye to where the box was on the other side of the mattress.

"I can do this." Ryan adjusted his position and crawled over to the end of the bed, stopping once the box was in sight. He sat on his knees, staring at the cardboard with scribbles of His handwriting on the side.

Ryan gulped before moving closer to it. Once he reached the box, he crossed his legs and sat in front of it. He didn't move to open it. He didn't look away. He just sat in front of it.

He knew it had already done it once. He had opened it last night, at least he was fairly certain he did. There had been a smaller box that he had pulled out...

He shook his head. If he could open it once, he could do it again. Before he could stop himself, he reached out and ripped open the tabs of the box.

Sitting in the middle of several different colored fabrics sat a smaller, polished box. It was the box Ryan had seen before. His eyes were instantly locked onto it.

Slowly he reached in to hold the wooden box. When his skin touched it, a cold chill ran through his body. He lifted the box from its resting place and brought it to his lap. He looked down at the lid and its three engravings. A red eye. A dark moon. A dark sun.

"The sun was always in my eyes..." The words left Ryan's mouth in a melody that felt pulled from his very being. He shut his eyes for a moment, trying to process what he had just said. As quickly as the words left his mouth, however, they left his mind as well.

He reopened his eyes, feeling a bit tired and looked down at the box. He ran his hand along the symbols before sliding it down to the side.

There was a small latch on the front of the box, but it wasn't locked. It was shaped like a small skull with its two eyes being the empty sockets that the pegs poked through.

Ryan shut his eyes again. Maybe he should have tried going through the rest of the box first. He could set the smaller box to the side and try to dig deeper into what was left behind. Instead, however, he opened his eyes and lifted the latch of the wooden box.