Sequel: If Only Until Morning

Pictures on Silence

Chapter 18

I stared straight down at the ground. That'd be really far to fall, I thought idly, gripping my jacket tighter. The show had ended about an hour and a half ago and we'd shacked up in a hotel for the night in another city. I couldn't tell you where; I think somewhere in southern Idaho. Our rooms sat on the seventeenth floor. The air chills straight to your bone marrow that high up.

You never really realise how high seventeen stories is until you're looking down at it from a balcony at half-past midnight outside a suite where two nineteen year-olds were getting ready to go to sleep. Speaking of sleep, if I yawned any wider, I think I'd have broken my jaw.

"What's the average height of a room?" I mused aloud. "Ten feet? Times seventeen, that's a hundred seventy feet. I wonder if you'd die on impact."

"Probably not." I twitched around and continued shivering as I set eyes on Spencer. He padded over in his socks and looked down briefly. "Depends on how you landed, actually." He cocked his head at me. "Weird thing to think about anyway."

"I like to think about weird things," I declared, smiling through chattering teeth.

"Well, think about it inside. We'll both get fucking pneumonia out here." I followed him back into the suite, my organs quivering inside my rib cage. They do that, you know. "Hey, we decided you could have the other bed and I'll sleep out on the couch."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "We decided?"

He shrugged, smiling subtly. "Me and Ryan. We knew you probably would have argued, so we made the whole decision ourselves."

"Aww, my little boys are growing up," I gushed, pinching his cheek, and headed into the bedroom room. Still shivering, I pulled off my suede jacket and sifted through my suitcase for my pyjamas.

"You do realise we're both three years older than you, right?" Ryan affirmed from his bed, where he lay on his back reading a book.

"Of course I do," I replied, heading for the bathroom, "But you are both still boys and relatively little, at least width wise."

"What about being yours?" His muffled question came through as the door shut but I still heard it. I locked the door, changed into my borrowed tank top and borrowed plaid pyjama pants, brushed my teeth, and washed my face.

I paused in drying my face with the white, scratchy towel and smiled slightly, a thought bashfully crawling into my head. "I wouldn't mind calling you mine," I whispered to my reflection. Realising how stupid and unrealistic that sounded, I shook my head and exited the bathroom. But let's keep that to ourselves.

Ryan had put his book away and lay under the covers with his hands behind his head, a doleful look flickering across his face with the light. I stood at the door for a moment, studying him, before dropping my stuff into my suitcase and climbing into the empty queen-size bed. I shuddered, curling up into a ball underneath the freezing sheets.

"Goodnight, Angie," Ryan said, turning off the light. I mumbled back a goodnight and curled up tighter in the pitch-blackness. I shut my eyes and crossed my arms, relaxing.

I stretched out on my back in a mummy pose.

I turned onto my other side, facing Ryan's bed, and curled up.

I lay on my stomach with the side of my face against the cold pillow.

And then I turned onto my side again.

"Bloody hell," I muttered.

"Can't sleep?" Ryan's voice carried in a whisper over to me.

"No," I whispered back. "It's too fucking cold." I think I heard him laugh. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

"Nah, I can't sleep either. Got a lot on my mind... and it's been a while since I've slept in the same room as someone who wasn't in the band."

"Yeah." Thank God for the darkness because I think I blushed crimsion at the dirty thoughts I had to suppress. I pulled the blankets around me more. "This bed is too big for one person to sleep in."

"I think that's why they're generally made for two people," Ryan chuckled.

"Don't be a smartass, Ross. That's my job."

"I'm just saying." I saw this shape shift in the darkness, rolling over to face me." So how do you like it so far? Tour, I mean."

"It's pretty cool," I answered loosely. "I love hanging out with you guys, but I wish Sean, Matt, and Jesse could have stayed for the whole two weeks. I'm starting to miss them, not to mention people back home."

"Yeah, I get what you mean. The first time we went on tour, I think I called home at least twice a day just to hear familiar voices." I smiled. "But you seem to be holding up pretty well."

"I occupy myself pretty well, I guess. There are lots of pretty things to take pictures of, and stuff to draw, and plenty of music to listen to." Jeezy, he falls under all of those, doesn't he? I realised.

Ryan laughed and asked, "Besides us, what are you into?" He seemed genuinely interested in what I said, not awkward or forced. We hadn't talked much until then, but conversation flowed well.

We both laughed at something he said, which probably made no sense at all, but it was late, or early, depending on how you looked at it, so that didn't matter. I yawned widely. "What time is it?" I mumbled, eyes drooping.

"Yeesh, quarter to four," Ryan answered. "Maybe we should actually try to get some sleep."

"Sounds fab. At least the bed's warmer now." My eyes shut finally and I drifted into dreamland, barely hearing Ryan wish me sweet dreams before I conked out.