Loving You Is Harder Than You Know
Chapter Nine
Ryan's P.O.V
Time is my own worst enemy. When Brendon actually decides to act like a proper boyfriend the lack of time fly's by and before I know it the old Brendon comes back. But when Brendon is hurting me time turns dramatically slow, the seconds feel like minutes, minutes feel like hours. Waiting for Jon, has become yet another activity what's brings time to a standstill. He must have called hours ago, but when I look at the clock the handle has barely moved, the irritable ticking sound gets to me like nails on a chalkboard. If he's coming, could he at least get here quicker, the suspense is torturing me and my heart.
For some reason I feel safe in this bedroom, watching the sun shine through the window, the silent clouds sailing by. The door is locked, nobody can get in, unless they break it down and through past experience I wouldn't be surprised if Brendon did. I feel numb and nobody, even Jon can bring me back right now. I've tried everything, looking at old photos, walking round it one of Brendons shirts, even smashing my head on the wall. But I just can't find the old Ryan and he's never coming back, never. Its time like these, what occur quite a lot by the way, when I would rather be dead than be the Ryan I am today.
I'm sat on the floor, blankly staring at the plain wall, trailing my fingers over the cracks. The peaceful silence is broken when Brendon's voice breaks into the atmosphere, but he sounds like a whole new person, his once loud aggressive tone has turned calmer, more gentle. I ignore it and hum a low tune to myself. A few moments later, he shouts again, but his voice is still too sickly sweet, forced even. I slowly get up, trying to control my shaking frame. Is Jon actually here or is this just one of Brendon's sick little games?
As soon as my fingers touch the doorknob I feel sick to my stomach, walking along the landing I had to concentrate on putting one foot into front of the other as I approached the top of the stairs. The stairs look too steep, too dangerous, my head starts spinning frantically as I walk down the staircase, trying to control my restless breathing. I can hear Jon voice, he tone bringing my thumping heart to a standstill.
I try to force a smile upon my face but instead I uncomfortably chew on the bottom of my once trembling lip. Smooth move Ryan, why don't you fall over the table just to finish off your pathetic act. Jon is lazed back in the beige living room chair, whereas Brendon is sat up right, as he twiddles his fingers and taps his foot nervously. Its actually quite a nice feeling to know that Brendon is not the one in control right now, the dominating individual in our twisted relationship.
"Hey Ryan, Brendon was just about to make us a nice cup of tea," Jon says cheerfully, he grins at me flashing his pearly white teeth. I turn to look at Brendon, those thick, plump lips of his are curled into a smile but I can see the anger and frustration gleaming through his wide eyes.
"I'll bring those biscuits you like," Brendon says to me, he is trying his best to me nice, because Jon is glaring at him like a hawk and Brendon still does not know that I told Jon yesterday about who he really is.
"That would be great," I reply flatly, I try and shoot Brendon a warm smile, but why should I return the act of being nice to him when the only reason why he is acting like this is because Jon is here.
Brendon shuffles into the kitchen, mutters things under his breath, I hear the kitchen door slamming and that's when I flop down onto the couch. I'm so relieved that Brendon has stayed quiet, I think seeing Brendon hurting Jon would just push me over the edge, be the cherry on top of my cake. I don't know whether to talk or not, I mean the look on Jon's face says a thousand words.
"What the hell are you playing at," I hiss at him, I mean I'm scared out of my mind and Jon is just sat here all cool and casual, does he know what he's getting himself into.
"Like I said I'm going to look after you," Jon replies simply the grin never leaving his cheeks. I just look at him, not really knowing what to say. If I have a go at him for trying to help me then it would look like I am throwing everything he has done for me back in his face.
"You do know Brendon is going to beat me when you leave," I say quietly, I bury my head into my trembling hands trying to take deep controlled breaths, What's all I need now is for me to pass out and have to have Jon kneeling over me, those beautiful brown eyes of his staring into mine.
"Ryan, Brendon wont dare lay a finger on you," Jon replies calmly, he stares at the pictures of me and Brendon on the dusty mantelpiece. His eyes scan over them seriously, as if he is taking in every insignificant detail. I bring my own eyes towards the picture of me and Brendon on our first date and have to control the tears pestering my eyes. Jon must be thinking about how happy we used to be and what a complete mess we are now.
"Sure he wont," I reply flatly, Jon goes to speak again but the door swings open, showing Brendon balancing cups of teas in his hands and the pack of biscuits he had promised to bring me. He passes me the cup, the smile still rippled across his lips. I take the tea gratefully as he thrusts the biscuits into my other hand. Taking my first sip, I left the boiling liquid trickle down my throat, warming me up inside.
"So Brendon, me and Ryan are going bowling today, are you okay with that," Jon asks Brendon, I just keep drinking the tea, a little too quickly, seeing as I had to stop before I burnt the skin from the roof of my mouth. I slammed the cup down on the table trying to distract Jon from what he was doing.
"That's fine with me," Brendon says after a small pause. I have a feeling that he is plotting something because he turns to look at me and I see the oh too familiar look creep into his eyes and that patronizing smirk over his lips.
"Also he can stay over at my house one day, we can have a manly night in," Jon continues, I try to contain the laughter attacking me when Jon says the word manly. I cry nearly every day of my life and let my boyfriend constantly hurt me. Wow I couldn't get anymore manlier if I tried.
"That will be fun wont it Ry," Brendon says cheerfully, I dare myself to look at him he is smiling way too much now, its creepy and sly and I don't like it one bit. He picks up his cup of tea taking a long drink, but yet his eyes never change, their still glued to me.
"I am just going to nip to the toilet," I say quickly, I dash up the stairs, gripping my aching stomach. I fly through the bathroom door and drop onto the cold tiled floor, hovering my head over the toilet bowl, I throw up. The pain was ripping through me as I threw up violently. Salty tears were streaming down my cheeks and the shaking returned to rattle my bones. I just wanted Jon to wrap his arms around me and tell me everything is gong to be okay.
What the hell is Brendon plotting and what's going to happen on this little trip with Jon to the bowling alley? I am seriously fed up of asking myself questions what are never going to get answered. When I do find out, it will be the hard way and Id rather not find out anytime soon.
Time is my own worst enemy. When Brendon actually decides to act like a proper boyfriend the lack of time fly's by and before I know it the old Brendon comes back. But when Brendon is hurting me time turns dramatically slow, the seconds feel like minutes, minutes feel like hours. Waiting for Jon, has become yet another activity what's brings time to a standstill. He must have called hours ago, but when I look at the clock the handle has barely moved, the irritable ticking sound gets to me like nails on a chalkboard. If he's coming, could he at least get here quicker, the suspense is torturing me and my heart.
For some reason I feel safe in this bedroom, watching the sun shine through the window, the silent clouds sailing by. The door is locked, nobody can get in, unless they break it down and through past experience I wouldn't be surprised if Brendon did. I feel numb and nobody, even Jon can bring me back right now. I've tried everything, looking at old photos, walking round it one of Brendons shirts, even smashing my head on the wall. But I just can't find the old Ryan and he's never coming back, never. Its time like these, what occur quite a lot by the way, when I would rather be dead than be the Ryan I am today.
I'm sat on the floor, blankly staring at the plain wall, trailing my fingers over the cracks. The peaceful silence is broken when Brendon's voice breaks into the atmosphere, but he sounds like a whole new person, his once loud aggressive tone has turned calmer, more gentle. I ignore it and hum a low tune to myself. A few moments later, he shouts again, but his voice is still too sickly sweet, forced even. I slowly get up, trying to control my shaking frame. Is Jon actually here or is this just one of Brendon's sick little games?
As soon as my fingers touch the doorknob I feel sick to my stomach, walking along the landing I had to concentrate on putting one foot into front of the other as I approached the top of the stairs. The stairs look too steep, too dangerous, my head starts spinning frantically as I walk down the staircase, trying to control my restless breathing. I can hear Jon voice, he tone bringing my thumping heart to a standstill.
I try to force a smile upon my face but instead I uncomfortably chew on the bottom of my once trembling lip. Smooth move Ryan, why don't you fall over the table just to finish off your pathetic act. Jon is lazed back in the beige living room chair, whereas Brendon is sat up right, as he twiddles his fingers and taps his foot nervously. Its actually quite a nice feeling to know that Brendon is not the one in control right now, the dominating individual in our twisted relationship.
"Hey Ryan, Brendon was just about to make us a nice cup of tea," Jon says cheerfully, he grins at me flashing his pearly white teeth. I turn to look at Brendon, those thick, plump lips of his are curled into a smile but I can see the anger and frustration gleaming through his wide eyes.
"I'll bring those biscuits you like," Brendon says to me, he is trying his best to me nice, because Jon is glaring at him like a hawk and Brendon still does not know that I told Jon yesterday about who he really is.
"That would be great," I reply flatly, I try and shoot Brendon a warm smile, but why should I return the act of being nice to him when the only reason why he is acting like this is because Jon is here.
Brendon shuffles into the kitchen, mutters things under his breath, I hear the kitchen door slamming and that's when I flop down onto the couch. I'm so relieved that Brendon has stayed quiet, I think seeing Brendon hurting Jon would just push me over the edge, be the cherry on top of my cake. I don't know whether to talk or not, I mean the look on Jon's face says a thousand words.
"What the hell are you playing at," I hiss at him, I mean I'm scared out of my mind and Jon is just sat here all cool and casual, does he know what he's getting himself into.
"Like I said I'm going to look after you," Jon replies simply the grin never leaving his cheeks. I just look at him, not really knowing what to say. If I have a go at him for trying to help me then it would look like I am throwing everything he has done for me back in his face.
"You do know Brendon is going to beat me when you leave," I say quietly, I bury my head into my trembling hands trying to take deep controlled breaths, What's all I need now is for me to pass out and have to have Jon kneeling over me, those beautiful brown eyes of his staring into mine.
"Ryan, Brendon wont dare lay a finger on you," Jon replies calmly, he stares at the pictures of me and Brendon on the dusty mantelpiece. His eyes scan over them seriously, as if he is taking in every insignificant detail. I bring my own eyes towards the picture of me and Brendon on our first date and have to control the tears pestering my eyes. Jon must be thinking about how happy we used to be and what a complete mess we are now.
"Sure he wont," I reply flatly, Jon goes to speak again but the door swings open, showing Brendon balancing cups of teas in his hands and the pack of biscuits he had promised to bring me. He passes me the cup, the smile still rippled across his lips. I take the tea gratefully as he thrusts the biscuits into my other hand. Taking my first sip, I left the boiling liquid trickle down my throat, warming me up inside.
"So Brendon, me and Ryan are going bowling today, are you okay with that," Jon asks Brendon, I just keep drinking the tea, a little too quickly, seeing as I had to stop before I burnt the skin from the roof of my mouth. I slammed the cup down on the table trying to distract Jon from what he was doing.
"That's fine with me," Brendon says after a small pause. I have a feeling that he is plotting something because he turns to look at me and I see the oh too familiar look creep into his eyes and that patronizing smirk over his lips.
"Also he can stay over at my house one day, we can have a manly night in," Jon continues, I try to contain the laughter attacking me when Jon says the word manly. I cry nearly every day of my life and let my boyfriend constantly hurt me. Wow I couldn't get anymore manlier if I tried.
"That will be fun wont it Ry," Brendon says cheerfully, I dare myself to look at him he is smiling way too much now, its creepy and sly and I don't like it one bit. He picks up his cup of tea taking a long drink, but yet his eyes never change, their still glued to me.
"I am just going to nip to the toilet," I say quickly, I dash up the stairs, gripping my aching stomach. I fly through the bathroom door and drop onto the cold tiled floor, hovering my head over the toilet bowl, I throw up. The pain was ripping through me as I threw up violently. Salty tears were streaming down my cheeks and the shaking returned to rattle my bones. I just wanted Jon to wrap his arms around me and tell me everything is gong to be okay.
What the hell is Brendon plotting and what's going to happen on this little trip with Jon to the bowling alley? I am seriously fed up of asking myself questions what are never going to get answered. When I do find out, it will be the hard way and Id rather not find out anytime soon.