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There was a spider on the corner of the motel window that Naim couldn't stop staring at.
Its body shook as its thin legs crawled down the web it had made, coming to a stop as it reached the point where the web met the dusty windowsill. It wasn't even that large, not like the ones he would find in his bedroom back in Bandee. He looked away for a second, taking in the blank walls lit by the yellow ceiling light and the single bed with thin grey sheets. He hadn't seen anyone else in this motel, but knew that he and Ryan couldn't be completely alone. Two trucks without their trailers were parked across the road, and after the two of them had come in the vacancy sign had gone out. Naim looked back to the window. The spider was gone.
"Naim." He looked over at the call to find Ryan staring back at him. The other had bags under his eyes, looking up at Naim as he kneeled on the floor beside the small bedside table. He had discarded his jacket at some point since Naim had last looked at him, and now had one hand on the greasy paper bag that they had bought before booking their room for the night. Naim couldn't remember what they had ordered, but didn't really care. He wasn't hungry.
Ryan broke eye contact first, clearing his throat. "You gonna eat something?"
Naim looked down at his hands, at the rings Ryan had given to him. He shook his head. The paper bag rustled as Ryan moved, mattress dipping as he sat beside him. "Does it hurt?"
The question surprised Naim, and he looked up again to see Ryan's gaze focused on his neck, on the bruises Naim knew where there. When he swallowed, he could still feel the entity's warm fingers cutting off his airways, its fake silver rings biting into his skin. The taste of blood still lingered in his mouth, like the metal of his chain necklace from when he used to chew on the clasp, and he couldn't tell if the blood was his own or whatever it was that the entity bled. Of course it hurt. It hurt like hell to be half strangled to death. He didn't say that though. He knew Ryan probably didn't have anything else to say.
Gentle fingers brushed his neck, and Naim jerked away. The look on Ryan's face flashed hurt before returning to concern, and he retracted his hand. "We can find somewhere to buy bandages tomorrow. You're still bleeding." He gestured to his own forehead, despite the fact Naim couldn't remember getting cut there. His whole body ached, so he didn't have the energy to try and work out where his worst injuries were. Ryan on the other hand seemed to be moving around fine, his only visible cuts and bruises from altercations Naim already knew about. Had Ryan been able to outrun that thing after they had parted ways? He felt a spike of jealousy, then regretted it. No. That was how he had gotten Hunter killed. He couldn't do that again.
"Naim." The way Ryan said his name was unlike his mother or his teachers or like anyone else in his life. It was so gentle, always gentle. Like he knew being too loud might scare Naim away, like he was something worth being patient with. "Look," Ryan said with a short sigh. "Just talk to me okay? Tell me that you're here. That you're real."
Tell me that you're real.
If Naim tried to speak right now, he might throw up. It didn't even have anything to do with his throat. He just—he couldn't. His eyes burned without his consent, and Naim looked away from Ryan once again with a huff. He felt stupid, ears hot as Ryan sat up, leaning closer but not quite touching him. Even though he had been the one to pull away moments earlier, all he wanted now was Ryan, the real Ryan's, embrace.
"What's the matter?" The concern was evident in Ryan's voice, a type of pity he knew he didn't deserve. Even if he wanted to reply it felt like if Naim moved even an inch, he wouldn't be able to hold back the convulsive gasp for air that burned behind his tongue and twisted in his stomach.
He pressed the knuckles of his right hand to his lips, the curves of Ryan's snake ring catching on skin. He knew how he looked, shoulders shaking with each laboured breath. Naim pressed his mouth against the rings harder, until they clashed with his teeth, as if focussing on the sensation could hold him together.
A hand hovered above his shoulder for a heartbeat, before coming to a rest on top of it. When Naim didn't pull away this time, Ryan shuffled closer. His other hand came up to caress Naim's own, the one still pressed to his mouth, and gingerly pulled it away. Not too much force that Naim wouldn't be able to stop him, but enough that the message was able to get across. Stop, please.
"Naim." There it was again. "Naim. You're okay."
He couldn't stop the whimper that passed his lips this time, tucking his face the crook of Ryan's neck as the other pulled him close.
Naim wasn't a loud crier, and never had been. He'd always tuck himself away where no one else could see, so that they wouldn't see how much of a mess he was when vulnerable. Cover his mouth so that he wouldn't make them worry. But right here, with Ryan's arms around him, he couldn't hold it back. Naim coughed and gasped as he tried to draw in air, probably getting spit on Ryan's shoulder in the process as it mixed with the tears that ran down his cheeks and dripped off his nose. His chest was tight, feeling like his ribcage was constricting and trying to suffocate his lungs.
And despite it all, Ryan just held him tighter.
Naim stifled a moan in Ryan's shoulder, his cheek feeling wet as he turned to face away. He moved to pull back, but Ryan didn't let him go until his breathing slowed and he fell quiet, feeling nothing now but the type of exhaustion that tugged on your eyelids and made your limbs go lax.
When Ryan eventually allowed him to pull back, he continued to hold Naim by the shoulders, keeping him upright and forcing the other to look him in the eyes.
"Hey," Ryan said, ducking his head to keep Naim's drifting attention on him. "Lets just sleep, okay? We can deal with everything in the morning."
Naim swallowed, before giving him a small nod. He could do that. Ryan nodded back to him with a half smile for confirmation, finally letting go to move over and lie down. Naim lowered himself down next to Ryan, the old springs on the mattress creaking in response. Ryan was facing him, eyes tracing Naim like he was trying to figure something out. Whether he found it or not, Naim couldn't tell, but Ryan rolled over so his back was to him.
"G'night Naim." He said.
Naim took a moment, before humming in response, but the slow rise and fall of Ryan's shoulders told Naim he was already asleep.