Ryan doesn't think much about it at first, the way he feels a steady pull in the back of his head. Not, like, a physical pull; it's as if there's someone right there with him, all the time. Or someone who is supposed to be there.
He chalks it up to missing Spencer (he does, he's just not going to call him) and keeps going to class, keeps doing his thing. Like that.
But then there's a moment when he walks into the music department in order to see whether he can audit Music Theory II despite the semester already having started, and he sees the guy sitting there, fiddling with a pair of drumsticks. It's almost like there's an audible click, and then Ryan can't move.
"Oh fuck," the guy says, and then he's out of his seat, catching Ryan.
Ryan tries to explain that he wasn't fainting, he was just, um, but all he can manage to say is, "Hi."
The guy is holding him pretty steady. "Hi."
"Do you--"
Yeah.
Holy shit. Did you just think that at me? Ryan can't breathe.
The guy--Bob, Ryan knows now, without him having to say it--looks miserable. "Sorry," he says. "Sorry, I think this is my fault."
Ryan shakes his head. It's not bad, it doesn't feel bad, it's, "It feels really right," he explains.
Bob swallows. "That's, yeah, but it wouldn't have happened to you if not for me." And now you're stuck.
Ryan is going to not think about what that means for a second, because he really is trying very hard to not freak out. "It'll be okay," he says instead, and nudges Bob back to the couch he was sitting on, sitting down next to him. "We'll make it okay."
After they've sat there for a while, Bob carefully takes Ryan's hand, and Ryan ducks his head and smiles, just a little bit.
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Date: 2010-09-05 07:53 am (UTC)Ryan doesn't think much about it at first, the way he feels a steady pull in the back of his head. Not, like, a physical pull; it's as if there's someone right there with him, all the time. Or someone who is supposed to be there.
He chalks it up to missing Spencer (he does, he's just not going to call him) and keeps going to class, keeps doing his thing. Like that.
But then there's a moment when he walks into the music department in order to see whether he can audit Music Theory II despite the semester already having started, and he sees the guy sitting there, fiddling with a pair of drumsticks. It's almost like there's an audible click, and then Ryan can't move.
"Oh fuck," the guy says, and then he's out of his seat, catching Ryan.
Ryan tries to explain that he wasn't fainting, he was just, um, but all he can manage to say is, "Hi."
The guy is holding him pretty steady. "Hi."
"Do you--"
Yeah.
Holy shit. Did you just think that at me? Ryan can't breathe.
The guy--Bob, Ryan knows now, without him having to say it--looks miserable. "Sorry," he says. "Sorry, I think this is my fault."
Ryan shakes his head. It's not bad, it doesn't feel bad, it's, "It feels really right," he explains.
Bob swallows. "That's, yeah, but it wouldn't have happened to you if not for me." And now you're stuck.
Ryan is going to not think about what that means for a second, because he really is trying very hard to not freak out. "It'll be okay," he says instead, and nudges Bob back to the couch he was sitting on, sitting down next to him. "We'll make it okay."
After they've sat there for a while, Bob carefully takes Ryan's hand, and Ryan ducks his head and smiles, just a little bit.