You're Right That It's Wrong To Spend the Night Alone

I glared at him, replaying with a frosty, "Of course I'm not crying."

"Ry..."

"Eat your damn noodles," I mumbled, sitting on the edge of the bed.

I thought he would leave me alone, and I ate my noodles in peace for a few minutes.

His hand found my hip, and he stroked it. "Ry," he whispered again.

"What, Brendon?" I'm sure my voice was harsh.
I was surprised as I found that didn't bother me in the least.

"What's wrong?" He didn't seem put off by my rude tone.

"None of your damned business."

I heard a sigh, and he sat up beside me, tucking his legs under himself.
"Ryan, of course it's my business."

"Nope."

"Yes, it is. You're my bestest friend, Ry-Ry. Please tell me."

"Not now."

His long, skinny arms wrapped around me, holding me and crushing me against his chest. "Later?" he mumbled against the top of my head.

I would lie, if it would make him feel better.
"Sure."