RydenVeins

Ryan gets up at seven and doesn't know why. He has reserved the room for several days and so doesn't have to leave it for now. He could have slept until afternoon and it wouldn't have bothered anyone. But instead of sleeping and wasting his life away, he would put a clean shirt on, grab a suit, tie up a black tie around his neck and end up looking like a fucking gorgeous business man. A business man on a business trip. In a hotel room with champagne and roses and chocolate-on-the-bed and all that jazz. Famous little man that he was. Of course. Everything looked like he was going to go out. Show up. Do not take a taxi. Go on a walkabout.

I remember when he woke me up in the middle of the night, just to kiss me. He used to cuddle with me and tried to get me excited. *********** "Ryan... Hey Ryan, wake up!" "Uh... What the fuuuck d'you want? What time is it?" "Past midnight. I want to kiss you." "Wouldn't you rather sleep for once?" "It's because I really do want to kiss you." "No touchie, you little pedo bear." "But, Ryan. I want you. And you're absolutely gorgeous right now." "Right now... Only right now?" "No. Of course you're always sexy." "Hum... Okay then." "I love you." "Yeah... Love ya' too..." "Ha! It worked!" "What? Hey, get off of me! Brendon!" *****

I closed my eyes. That world. Is it fact or fancy? I'm a stream. I am part of the water. I can see underwater plants, fishes which hardly look at me and hurry to take shelter. Ha, they're silly. I know what it's like to be alone. Right now, I feel so good. My eyes are still closed, I don't want to see the ceiling of this room anymore. I picture the water on my skin, my hair floating, going fluffy as if it wasn't wet, my whole body aching for more contact with that wild, beautiful, powerful nature. Then I picture him. He's not the shadow of the sea like I am, he actually is alive. Does it even make sense? I assume not. Yet, I'm making him l

I could come just from remembering his hot hands on me, his tongue licking the corner of my mouth, his fingers touching my hips and cupping my face, him whispering dirty things into my ear while sucking on my outer shell. Whimpering my name, oh. Too much. I'm half-aroused already. But I don't want to do that. I'll just hurt myself more. It's just a bad idea, and it wouldn't be enough anyway. The sex was pretty fantastic with Brendon. He had power, he had all he wanted to have on me, and there it is just me, myself, I and my ridiculously small body, face to face with that giant, stupid shitty world I basically hate. World which robbed him from

I'm becoming obsolete. My heart is falling into abeyance. I'm crumbling into ruin. I want him. Give him back to me. I can't accept his death. I can't tolerate it. I can't condone it. I can't look after the past and cry either, I need to... forget. I hate listening to 'Penny Lane' without seeing his smiling face near me - feeling his arms wrapping up around my neck, his eyes closing and our lips barely touching. I can't walk by the sea without missing his hand in mine, I can't live on my own. I can't afford to properly live on my own, I would be dying anyway. Now or later, what does it change? I don't care about suffering. I would