throw me a life vest. [rylan villanueva]

synopsis: featuring a 'you came' hunter and a 'you called' Rylan.

Contrary to popular belief, Rylan doesn't have many apps on their phone. They're not like A, who has a thousand games and no order to any of their home screens. No, Rylan has a singular page with a dozen or so apps, having gotten rid of junk like the iTunes store (because why the fuck would they ever purchase songs when Spotify exists?).

It's why they're so easy to reach. Does that mean they'll appear the moment they get the text? Definitely not. But if you text or call them, chances are they saw and simply chose to ignore it. Either that or they were away from their phone, which tends to be the other fifty percent of the time.

They don't ignore it this time.

The moment they get your text, they sit up straight on the asphalt, ignoring the pain shooting up their tailbone. They're on the roof as usual, laying with their back on the ground, face to the sky as they attempt to spot the stars hidden by the endless light pollution. They aren't disappointed. When it comes to things like these, they expect to be let down. When it comes to you, however, it's the opposite.

[name :)], 12:04am

are you awake?

can you come over

[name :)], 12:10am

nevermind. ignore that

But it's hard to ignore something that aches like this. Rylan rubs their hands over their eyes, wishing they'd seen the texts earlier. They forget that their 'Do Not Disturb' turns on after midnight. Stupid, really, when only after midnight are they brought alive.

They curse themself all the way to your apartment, having long memorized the route by heart.

They take the stairs two steps at a time and arrive at your door front with their hands on their knees, catching their breath. For once, they've decided to enter the conventional way and knock. Breaking in is fun and all, but the last thing they need is to be reported.

"[name]?" Rylan calls. They knock again, two raps of their knuckles against wood that ring hollow throughout the empty space behind. They strain to hear if you're awake but the silence is deafening.

After a moment's hesitation, they take out their lockpicks and begin picking your door. It's quick work, only taking them six seconds before they successfully make it in. If you had a house with a spare key under a plant pot, they wouldn't have had to resort to doing this. Therefore, it's your fault—and even more so if they get caught.

See?

One glance around your living room tells Rylan that you're not there. The lights are off and the blankets on your couch are used, indicating that you left and plan on organizing in the morning.

They're about to make their way down to your bedroom when they hear the flushing of a toilet and running water. A few seconds later, you emerge from your washroom, blinking blearily at the darkness around you—and then at the silhouette standing in your apartment. You jump before relaxing when you realize who it is.

"Rylan. I… What are you—"

They crack a smile. "Hey."

You glance at your window. "Did you climb through? I'm sorry, I locked it. I thought I told you that you didn't need to come. I wasn't… I wasn't expecting any company."

"Front door," Rylan explains. "I picked your lock, I hope you don't mind. You sounded a little stressed over text, I wanted to come by." They fiddle with their fingers as they speak. They don't know why they're suddenly so nervous. "I didn't want to leave you alone."

"Alone…" The word echoes between the two of you. "I would have been okay."

"Would you have?"

Your hesitation is all Rylan needs. One moment you're standing there valiantly, trying to mask your emotions and the next, you're stumbling forward into Rylan's arms, body shaking as it catches up to the feelings you've been hiding so long.

Though sudden, Rylan finds that they're not surprised. They mutter sweet words as you clutch onto them, stroking your back in what they hope is a soothing motion.

"Rylan, I—"

"Shh. You don't need to say anything. I'm here."

"But I—"

"[name]."

You pause, taking in a breath as you glance at them. You look exhausted, eyes rimmed with red and lip trembling, yet Rylan can't help but think about how beautiful you are. Inside and out. Through and through. They wonder how lucky they have to be to cross paths with you.

"You came," you whisper. Your hands tighten on their body, as if trying to convince yourself that they're real. "You came, even though I said you didn't have to."

Rylan feels themself smile. "Of course I did. You called."

It's the only response you need to hear.

The two of you stand there for a couple of more minutes until Rylan eventually pulls you to bed. You pass out almost instantly, but not before beckoning Rylan to join you. They wake with your scent enveloping them like a hug, questioning who exactly saved who last night.