American Suitehearts

Brendon’s POV

I stood in front of the mirror for a good half an hour or so. My hair, looked like fancy flowers no matter what I did to it. I was meant to be meeting Ryan in fifteen minutes and everything just felt...wrong and not quite right. A red V-neck and black skinny jeans—too casual? Should I wear my sister’s eyeliner, or do gay guys not do that—is that too gay for them....not that I’m gay or anything....god who am I kidding?

I finally leave my hair alone and let out a deep breath. It looks windblown and a little bit silly but it was too late to do anything about it. I look out the bathroom window; I see a dark figure leaning outside my house. His wearing a leather jacket, skinny jeans and a cigarette is loosely held between his fingers. My chest tightens and breathing becomes difficult, as fast as I can I run down the stairs and trip over my feet several times before finally opening the door.

I want to wrap my arms around him and kiss him and do a thousand or so incredible awful lovey-dovey things ...but instead I smile and whisper a nervous hello with my hands in my pockets

Ryan gives me the slightest of smiles. For some reason it makes me sad, it was the sort of smile you gave to someone you wouldn’t be seeing for a while, I step forward as if to hug him but he stops me

“Not here” is all he says

“Do you have a bike?” he asks softly

I nod, and I finally notice a red bike with a thin frame leaning against the same wall Ryan had been against a few seconds ago. He moves his head as if to signal “well go get it then”, I do as I was “told” and got my rusty bike from the garage.

Ryan got on his red bike and rode in front of me. His dark hair changed colour in the light, flickering from a chocolate to coal black, as if it couldn’t decide. He led me to Grand Park, where everything was always an alien green, when Ryan turned his head slightly to see if I was still following him a slight smile was playing upon his lips. I smiled back before his face vanished from view to look at the small gravel road in front of him; tall trees lined the deserted paths: nobody was here except for us, we were completely alone. ...

Slowly he came to a stop and let his bike fall to the ground, this time he doesn’t even turn round to see that I’m following him. I mimic his action and let the bike fall to the ground before trailing behind; he leads me to the base of the tree before finally facing me. He has the most curious expression on his face; however I didn’t see much of his expression after that because he pulled me into the deepest kiss.

I found myself frozen, like a statue as he ran his fingers through my hair. There were so many things racing through my mind at that point that all I could seem to do was close my eyes, trapped in my own thoughts as Ryan wrapped his arms around me. His lips pull away for a second to smile and whisper my name, slowly my hands find his thin waist and I pull him closer, closer to me...

Ryan tugged at the bottom of my shirt and let his hands slip underneath my shirt. I shivered slightly, his hands were cold, but it was nice feeling as the shock sets in and made my breathe hitch. He smiled at my reaction and pulled my shirt even more and over my head, forcing our lips to separate momentarily, he threw my shirt somewhere to the side and let his hand trail along my bare skin in an absent minded way. As if it was the most normal thing in the world.

He too takes a moment to take off his own shirt and pulls me to the ground, lips still on mine and hands still in my hair. Everything is coming in flashes of cream skin and chocolate hair. It is in these moments that he is all that exists.

Ryan crawls on top of me, and I’m finding it impossible to breathe. It’s not the kissing, it’s just the fact that he, Ryan Ross, is on top of me. Suddenly his lips part from mine and move to my neck, there not the delicate sort of kisses you have with your childhood sweet heart: where you hold them like they’re about to shatter into a thousand pieces if you squeeze them too hard. His pulling at my hair and gripping my arms until his knuckles turn white. No, not delicate at all.

I feel his hands going down my torso. It takes a lot longer than it probably should have for my mind to realise where his hands were actually going, in my own defence I was a little bit distracted. By the time he reached the brim of my jeans I grabbed his hands automatically with my eyes filled with fear.

“What is it?....” he asks in confusion to my reaction

His eyes were full of innocent curiosity, wide in anticipation. My breaths became more wrenching; his weight on me seemed to shift slightly with the thought that this was another person, another boy on top of me.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of” he whispered softly before leaning forward to kiss
I can feel his heart beat as his chest is against mine. It’s racing.

I speak. “Not now...defiantly later, just not now”

His eyes flashed darkly for a second. It was the look people get just before they were about to yell or curse.In that same second it vanished, as if it had never been there. He nodded and lay down next to me; I put my arm around him and pulled him closer. It was such a strange feeling I thought to myself as we lay together on the grass, it felt like nothing could go wrong, like everything was at peace. We had been lying under the trees for who knows how long. Ryan was drawing invisible circles into my skin, I closed my eyes for a second.

“Bren” he whispered softy....

“I have something to tell you....”

The invisible circles he had been drawing suddenly stopped. He leant up so I could see his beautiful chocolate eyes

“I’m...I’m moving back to England...”

That doesn’t make sense.

He then continues “My father wants to move back home he met a...it doesn’t matter, it’s probably best that we don’t ever see each other again”

I don’t understand.

He got up suddenly and walked over to where his shirt had been thrown on the ground and put it on his thin cream frame covered by a dull grey.

“I’m so sorry” was all he managed to whisper without looking at my face

“Nothing happened...”

And with that he walked back towards the pathway, where I heard him pick up his bike and ride away. The small sound seemed deafening. I lay there for an unaccountably long time. It felt as though I was dreaming, or maybe this was just a nightmare? It began to grow dark and I forced myself home, by a stroke of luck nobody was home; I locked myself in my bedroom anyway

I traced my lips for a moment, where his lips had been, where they would never be again. It began to rain outside. Pour in fact, and I found myself earning for his harsh touch.