It's okay to be brave.
It's okay to get up and walk away.
Believe it or not,
Leaving takes courage.

.\.|./.

Ryan Falls

| in which he tells her he loves her |

Looking at Crystal as I spoke, I couldn't read her expression. I didn't know what she was thinking or what she saw when she looked my way. All I knew was fear.

Every word I uttered tore a piece of me from my being like I was cutting bit after bit of my flesh and laying it flat on the table for everyone to scavenge. It wasn't easy, baring my heart and soul, exposing all that I have kept hidden for so long.

With every breath I took, I felt it would be my last. I had to force myself not to give up, not to shut up, get to my feet and run out without a backward glance. I might have quit speaking at all if she blinked. I might have changed my mind, seeing the slightest bit of hesitation.

She watched me like she was seeing me for the first time, and I hated every bit of it. I couldn't take it, unable to bear the sight of her changing expression. It was as if she was seeing the real me, the coward hiding behind the façade, the broken boy hiding in the perfect body. That's what I have been told all my life -- that I'm perfect.

I'm not, and for the first time, I feel like someone can see that.

It took all my strength to keep talking, to force each word up my throat and out of my mouth. My lips trembled and I clenched my hands into fists, not wanting her to see the shaking of my fingers. I was afraid of what she'd say, but more than that, I was afraid of breaking down in front of her.

Boys don't cry. Boys aren't weak. Boys don't get raped.

Boys are strong. Boys fight. Boys hold their heads up high and show no weakness.

It was never just about me. It was more about my identity, the standards of the society, about the masculine stereotype and about how well I fit into it. How could a boy go through all I went through? How could I?

Martin's voice echoed in my ears and my mother's face flashed before my eyes when I talked. It wasn't Crystal I saw when I was talking, for it wasn't just Crystal I spoke to. I spoke to the world, everyone I wanted to tell about it but couldn't. It wasn't Crystal who saw me but it was only Crystal who heard my cries. She heard me and she embraced me.

Every time I imagined telling someone, it was always the same reaction. I saw pity in their imagined eyes. I saw judgment and heard whispers, blaming me for what happened. I allowed it to happen, being the weakling I was. Why did I put up with it? I was clearly enjoying it, that's why.

My therapist tried, calling child services to my house and telling them what I had told him in our private sessions. The woman in black and the elderly man who accompanied her had asked me if it was true.

'Is it true you're being sexually abused by someone?' the woman had asked me, as politely as she could have.

I wanted to tell her the truth. I wanted to fall to my knees and cry until the heavens heard my pleas. I wanted to hold on to my therapist's feet and kiss them for trying to save me.

'Tell them, Ryan,' my mom had perked up. 'Tell them you lied to get attention. Tell them the truth.'

Her eyes were cold but her smile didn't show it. She repeated the mantra over and over until I knew I had no choice but to repeat it too. She loved me, after all. Why else would a mother want her son to be abused on a continuous basis? She was only doing it to protect me. She would lose me otherwise, as the service-providers would take me away from her. She didn't want to lose me.

Those were lies I told myself, as I lied for the first time.

'I'm sorry,' I said, my voice a mere whisper. My eyes remained on the man who was trying to help me. 'I'm sorry I lied.'

He looked disappointed, a sadness that should not have existed in a stranger's eyes there in his. He knew that the only lie I was telling was the one everyone heard, but he didn't expose me. Child services left, the therapist was penalized for falling prey to my 'lies', and my mom pulled me from therapy. Everything else remained the same, including my mom's behavior and Martin's fake appearance.

'Good boy,' he said, when he smiled with malice towards me.

Mom shot me a hateful glare, and I never understood why she hated me.

I still don't.

As for everyone else, I expected pity from them. I didn't want to be labeled the victim, the guy who was abused and was too scared to tell anyone. I didn't want to be known as 'the boy who got raped'. I didn't want people to look my way and remember the broken boy. I didn't want to be called 'broken'.

That's not what Crystal's eyes said, though. And that's not what her body said when it wrapped mine in a comforting embrace. As soon as she took me in, accepting me after knowing how defiled and dirty I am, I knew. I knew she loved me, for that was the first time I felt love. It wasn't pity I felt, and it wasn't judgement. It was love. Pure and clean. Just like a crystal.

And I finally broke down. I broke down to pieces, after years finding the safe space that allowed me to break down. Tears slid down my face and my body crumbled at last, and she just held me. She held me whole, preventing my broken pieces from getting lost. They fell and she let them, before scooping them up and putting them back together, crying along until I was done.

"I don't want to be here," she kept saying over and over, and is still saying it.

Even after hours of lying still in the bed that shouldn't feel like home but does, I feel whole. After breaking down and becoming intact again, I feel like a new person. It doesn't matter that the past still stands behind me, the vast city of LA looming above my frail form. All that matters is the girl who was a stranger a mere few months ago and has suddenly given me the acceptance I have craved my entire life.

As soon as the first rays of the sun peek in through the crack in the curtains, Crystal is on her feet and tugging at my hand.

"Let's go," she repeats for the dozenth time, and this time, I obey.

She splashes water into her puffy eyes and onto her blotchy face, before turning to me. I know she doesn't say it, but she wants us to leave as soon as we can. After last night, she seems to be more scared of LA than I have ever been.

"I just need ten minutes," I almost plead.

Crystal nods, not asking me why. I think she knows why, leaving the bathroom and closing the door behind her. No explanations are necessary, and I strip down and take a refreshing bath before changing into a clean pair of jeans and a shirt and follow Crystal out of the motel room.

Getting into the driver's seat, I begin to drive in silence. My plan is to stop off at a breakfast or coffee point and stock up before we hit the road. As much as I'd like to show Crystal around LA, I want to get out of here as soon as possible. One encounter with my past led to a near-breakdown. Who knows what another could do to me?

Not to mention Crystal ... how long can she possibly put up with my insanity?

"Ryan?" she says, her hand closing around my arm. "Please, say something."

I glance at her, surprised by her request.

"What?" I ask.

She looks like she's about to cry and is holding herself together. I don't like it, especially since I know I'm the reason for her sadness.

"Crystal, what's wrong?" I ask her.

She lowers her gaze, sighing inaudibly. "You haven't smiled since we got here," she whispers. "You haven't talked to me like you used to, or said one of your cheesy cringy-lines. You just ... haven't been yourself."

I don't answer, but I can't fight back the smile that appears on my face. I wind my fingers through hers, raising her hand to kiss it.

"I'm the same, Crystal," I say, sounding unlike myself to be honest. I clear my throat and try again. "I'm not quiet. I'm just kind of ..."

"Speechless?" she suggests.

I nod, smiling slightly.

"I don't want you to be," she says. "I don't want you to be quiet ever again. You can say anything. You should say anything. Just keep talking. Your silence ... it scares me."

I close my eyes and inhale through my nose. "Hey, I'm the coward here, okay?" I attempt to joke.

"You're not a coward, Ryan," she says. "You're the exact opposite. You're the strongest person I know. The bravest and the kindest."

I snort, not really amused but wanting her to see me the way she used to. I don't want her worrying about me. Crystal was happy leaving Alaska, and she's closed up on herself since I told her my story. I don't want that. I don't like that.

"We'll just get something to eat and then we'll leave, all right?" I ask Crystal, changing the topic. "Is it okay if I can't show you around Hollywood?"

"I hate Hollywood," Crystal says without a beat.

I can't help but laugh. She watches me with a smile on her face.

"I like it when you laugh," she comments.

I smile wider, already lifted out of my depressed state by her smile. 

"I love it when you make me laugh," I tell her.

As if to make me laugh again, Crystal makes the weirdest face I have ever seen. If a fish were to try yawning, it would look the way Crystal looks right now. I don't know whether to freak out that she can make that face or die of joy at the fact that she's doing it for me, so I settle on laughing.

"There you go," she joins in. "This is the Ryan I love."

My laughter comes to a sudden halt, and my eyes widen. I watch Crystal, who turns her face the other way to hide the blush in her cheeks. As for me, I notice. I notice how she flushes with embarrassment at what she just confessed, and I notice the exact words she used.

'... the Ryan I love.'

The Ryan she loves.

Crystal loves me.

I stop the car on the side of the road, and she looks up at me, her brow furrowing a little.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

I inhale a deep breath. "I know I've never said it, Crystal," I begin carefully. "But you know I love you, right?"

Crystal looks taken aback, clearly as surprised by my confession as I am by hers. She swallows back whatever she's about to say, smiling brightly.

"Who doesn't, I guess," she pretends to take my words lightly.

I don't laugh this time, maintaining eye contact until she lets her feigned impression fade away.

"Crystal ..." I repeat, slowly but firmly. "I love you."

She doesn't break free of my gaze, reaching out to touch her fingers to my cheek.

"I know," she breathes, smiling in a way that melts my heart.

I wait, raising my eyebrows. "Won't you say it back?" I tease.

"Why would I? When I don't --"

My lips meet hers and Crystal doesn't pull back. She kisses me back, slowly at first before leaning in to shift closer. I pull back slightly, a playful smile on my face.

"Liar," I whisper against her lips when she attempts to kiss me.

"We both know I am," she counters, before taking hold of my face so she can pull me towards her. I chuckle against her lips and she smiles back.

Sitting in an old, retail car, parked on the side of a bustling road in LA, running out of money and not having a place to go, we find home. Two people on the run from their pasts, hiding from their demons and chasing off the struggles of real life, Crystal and I are whole, both healing, both completing each other.

We kiss and we laugh, playing and teasing each other, oblivious of the next jerk of reality fate is throwing our way this very minute.

The jerk of reality that occurs in the form of a knock on the window, us breaking apart and glancing at the newcomer, Crystal glancing my way and me staring at the man I wasn't expecting to see.

Maybe we aren't free just yet.

And maybe we never will be.

.\.|./.

A/N: Bonus chapter because some of you wanted to see things from Ryan's POV. I know it's not what you wanted, but hope it's okay. I also introduced the next bit here.

Story coming to an end in the next ... four to five chapters? Do you want resolutions or freedom for the two of them? I might also have a surprise for y'all over the next weekend, as this story comes to an end. Any guesses? If you're on Instagram, you'll probably know sooner than those on Wattpad.