Nothing made me stronger than your fragile heart

[RYAN MITCHELL]

Ryan sat stiff in the desk's chair staring down with tear filled eyes at the wood where little white grains of coke was just moments ago. It was only an hour since Mitchell had crushed his heart into tiny little pieces, and he couldn't believe it. What he also couldn't believe was, he had a month of being sober, and just like that. The real Ryan Mitchell was back to do what he done best, or so he thought.

At this moment, Ryan didn't know exactly what to do with himself. He'd already wrote in his journal, already done his coke, and cried, what else was there? A part of him wanted to beg Mitchie to reconsider ,but he was to devastated. And the other part of him wanted to go to the palms and throw a party on the top floor. There was no use. He wanted to see Mitchie. At least one more time, last time meaning: until he avoided him with all of his ability, and there had to be some kind of excuse to go over to his dorm.

Trying to steady his hands and breath, he wiped his eyes and then jerked on his jacket before heading out the door. Many times he thought of turning around, that he was just asking for more tears. This was true, but apparently worth it since Ryan's feet kept their slow steady pace down the corridor. His whole body felt numb, and the whole way to Mitchie's door was a blur.

Ryan didn't bother to knock, but he did stand at the door, eyeing it, wondering what could be in store for him inside. What if Mitchie really did leave him for a guy, and he was here right as this moment? This made Ryan smile mirthlessly. Knowing his condition right at this very moment, he'd kill whoever it was. Oh well, he had to find out if that was the case.

Now biting his lip nervously, Ryan pushed the door open quietly and then shut it behind him. Now that he was face to face with the boy he still loved, there were no words. There were only tears.

[MITCHELL PRESSLEY]

Crying silently had to be the most difficult task possible. Mitchie was now very aware of this. Every time he tried to shut himself up a noise would escape, a pathetic high-pitched whimper, like the sound of a beaten puppy. He needed to work on that. But there was no helping it at the moment. He felt like he'd just turned everything that was good for him away. But he wasn't good for Ryan. Ryan wasn't going to be happy with him. Especially not now. God.

Running his hands over his face, he pulled them back, scrunching his nose up and grumbling. So many tears, his face felt like it was melting off. Rolling onto his back on his bed, he stared up at the ceiling and tried to sniff. Nope. His nose was completely stuffed up. He probably sounded like death right now if he were to talk, which he wouldn't. He wouldn't do anything. He'd just lie there and hate himself and his stupid life, and his terrible decisions and- did his door just open?

His dorm mate wasn't supposed to be back until around two or three in the morning (as per usual) and so the fact someone was waltzing into his dorm made him jump out of his skin. Shooting up he looked over to the door, face still streaked pathetically with guilt and despair and there was the person who he was feeling all of this for and his stomach dropped immediately.

Mitchie looked awful right now. Hair a mess, in sweats, with his eyes still dripping and there was Ryan. His initial impulse was to run up and hug him, like he always did and he almost felt himself take a step towards him, but he pulled himself back, cautious, eyes wide and uncertain because he wasn't used to this Ryan...or this Mitchie.

"I-" His voice broke immediately, and he felt like he was going to be sick. Swallowing the feeling he crawled up and off his bed, and stood, biting down so hard into his lip he thought it might bleed. "I wasn't uhm- hi. I didn't know you were- hi." He struggled, voice quavering, hands held behind his back, shaking nervously.

[RYAN MITCHELL]

Ryan locked his jaw as soon as he felt the first hot tear escape the corner of his eye. Quickly he wiped it away with a sniffle letting his eyes drop to the floor and gathered himself before looking back up at Mitchie and cleared his throat. "I came to get whatever that was mine..." Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Ryan looked around the room seeing if there was something that could be seen easily.

There was so much that needed to be said. Some harsh things and a bit of heart breaking things, but Ryan didn't know what to do. What was best for him? To keep himself closed and be even more hurt and angry about the whole situation with more of an answer than "I'm not good for you." OR he could open up the feelings and risk getting something back or regretting everything even more than he already did.

The heavy feeling on Ryan's heart was enough to give him an answer. The feeling was hard to bare in front of Mitchie, but he wouldn't cry in front of him. He couldn't. The fact that Ryan didn't trust him enough for that anymore. Nodding to himself, he ignored the tight clench and burn inside of his throat long enough to sit down on the end of Mitchie's bed.

"Give it to me straight. Because you're reasoning for leaving me...it.." Hanging his head Ryan mouthed the word shit then swallowed the lump in his throat. "It isn't a valid excuse.."