Chapter 37|I'm not a hugger

"We just broke into a golf course?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. We broke into a building to see a golf course. I never expected those words to leave my mouth in my lifetime.

"No," Ryan said. "A mini golf course."

Oh yeah, because that makes all the difference.

"Why exactly did we break in a golf course?"

"It's a mini golf course," he corrected. "And this place is awesome. I'll show you." I was dragged towards the hole in the wall. He ducked through the space which had been pulled free of bricks and building materials. I followed his lead, ducking my head to avoid decapitation.

The room was pitch black, which made sense considering that all of the windows had been boarded up. Even in the dark I could see that the walls were covered in graffiti. It wasn't exactly the kind of place that I would choose to go to on a first date, but whatever.

Ryan took my hand again, pulling me along behind him as he ran the palm of his other hand along the wall, as if he was looking for something. He stopped suddenly.

"Here it is," he muttered to himself. He flipped a switch, bright lights illuminating the whole room. It was blinding for a start, my eyes having just adjusted to the darkness. I blinked several times, staring at my surroundings. There was a golf course. Sorry, a mini golf course, but that wasn't what caught my attention. I had been right about the graffiti, the majority of the walls were coated in spray paint, but one wasn't.

I approached the far wall with interest. It was appropriately named 'Memory wall'. I could see that this was a popular place. The wall was covered in pictures, names, a map with pins stuck into it. A pencil sketch of a girl with a pixie cut. All of the pictures had the same two people in them, the girl from the sketch and a guy. They were clearly a couple, and they both looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on who they were. Whoever they were, my guess is that they were pretty old now, judging by the black and white pictures and the style of clothing.

"Who are they?" I asked Ryan, who had appeared at my side.

"I don't know," he replied with a shrug. "But whoever did this made a real effort to keep it safe."

"What do you mean?"

"Well it was behind three layers of wallpaper, and covered in paper so the wallpaper glue wouldn't ruin the pictures."

I stepped closer to the wall, studying it. One picture in particular caught my eye.

"I swear I've seen this picture somewhere before," I said, feeling a strange sense if déjà vu. My eyes widened as I realised where I had seen it. "Mrs Miller has this picture framed in her living room."

Ryan frowned. "Crazy stamp and soap collecting Mrs Miller?"

I nodded. "Do you think that could be her?"

"I guess," he said, peering more closely. "It probably is the right time era."

"Huh, I never thought she could pull off a pixie cut," I commented.

"I'm guessing that's her husband Henry," Ryan said, pointing at the man in the pictures.

In most of the pictures, they were both staring into the camera with big cheesy smiles, but in a few they were looking at each other, or one of them would be smiling and the other would just be looking lovingly at their partner.

"Looks like they really loved each other," I said.

"Yeah," Ryan said, scratching the back if his neck. "So, wanna play some golf?"

I grinned. "I thought it was mini golf, and don't say I didn't warn you because I will beat you."

"You're on sunshine."

~*~*~*~

"You cheated," I said bluntly, crossing my arms over my chest. He was so obviously cheating, I hadn't figured out how exactly, but there was no doubt in my mind that he was cheating. There is no way you can get a hole in one, four times in a row. It's just not humanly possible.

"Aww, come on, its just a game sunshine," he said, staring out at the road as he drove. He had been grinning his ass off since we left the place.

"Just a game," I muttered under my breath. "You know I'm going to demand a rematch right?"

"I figured you would," he chuckled.

Cars lined the street as we got closer to Ryan's house. He visibly shrunk back into his seat as he parked in his spot in the driveway. He cut the engine, leaning back in his seat and staring out the window. I could tell that he was putting off going in there. I mean, he had a pretty good reason.

I unbuckled my seatbelt, reaching over and placing a hand on his shoulder. He jumped a little, jolting out of his trance.

"You scared me sunshine," he said, swallowing as he looked through the living room window of his house. I could see people dressed in black milling around inside the house.

"You know they won't bite when you go in there, right?"

"It's not that," he groaned.

"What is it then?"

"My family is full of huggers. They always get up in my personal space," he shivered. "And most of them are old women who wear old women perfume and always try to kiss me with their old people lips."

I chuckled at his description. "So you're telling me that you're not a hugger. You hug me all the time."

"Yeah, but that's different." He said. "You're just the right height, and your hair smells good. Think about it, have you ever seen me hug someone else?"

"Well, no but..."

"I'm not a hugger."

"You're weird," I said finally.

"So are you."

I grinned. "Thanks."

He sighed, running a hand down his face. "Do I have to go in there?"

"Well you can't stay in here for the rest of your life."

"Is that up for debate?"

"No."

"But why?" He whined.

"Because they're your family. Think about Evan, Archie and your mom, they need you, and you need them."

He looked at me. "You're right, but I need you too. You have to come in with me."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine, but I swear if someone tries to pinch my cheeks I will run."

He grinned. "Deal."

I didn't bother putting my shoes back on. If I was meeting the family I might as well meet them as me. Heels were definitely not me.

Ryan linked our fingers as we walked up the path to his front door. He was nervous. I could tell because his palm was sweating. He reached out to clasp the door handle, but hesitated, retracting his hand.

"Any last words?"

"May the odds be ever in your favour," I replied.

The corners of his mouth twitched upwards and in one swift movement he pulled my hand which was already linked with his, I ended up with my chest flush with his. I looked up at him in confusion, but he just smiled, tucking a loose lock of my dark hair behind my ear. He tilted his head slightly to the right, his eyes subconsciously zeroing in on their intended target. He had to lean down in order for our faces to be at the same level due to our height difference, so instead I stood on my tiptoes, meeting him in the middle. My eyes closed as our lips met, and my arms wound their way around his neck, and I felt a pair of large hands clamp onto my waist, pulling me closer to him if that was even possible. The kiss itself wasn't slow, but it wasn't urgent either. Ryan definitely knew what he was doing, not that I had much to compare with. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and a tingle travelled the length of my spine as our lips moved on their own accord. I felt Ryan's hands travel a little lower, but he didn't get too handsy, he wasn't that kind of guy anyway. Eventually we both had to pull apart to breathe, because y'know if you don't do that, you die. I opened my eyes, not having removed my arms from around his neck.

"What was that for?" I asked, still a little breathless.

"You said the odds were in my favour. I just wanted to test your theory," he grinned in response.

I laughed, shaking my head. Ryan glanced briefly behind me.

"Why do I get the feeling that your relatives are watching us out the window?"

"Because you're right, and they're incredibly nosy."

The door opened with a squeak, revealing a puffy eyed, but smiling Evan. "Kiddies, nice of you to join us."

Ryan frowned at him. "Why are you so happy?"

"I'm happy to see you," he paused. "And mom owes me twenty bucks."

"You made a bet on us?" Ryan asked blankly.

"Come on baby brother, what else is there to do around here? Now come on, there are a bunch of people with false teeth who want to talk to you."

"Oh yay," Ryan mumbled sarcastically.

I stepped away from him, taking his hand instead. "It won't be that bad."

~*~*~*~

"I take it back, that was terrible," I complained, while covering my reddened cheeks from the excessive cheek pinching. I don't know why old people feel the need to do that. It actually hurts.

"Tell me about it," Ryan pouted, furiously scrubbing at the red lipstick on his cheeks, it wasn't doing much good though. All he was succeeding in doing was smudging it. He let out a cry of defeat. "Is this waterproof or something?"

I rolled my eyes, taking the wash cloth from him. "Let me do it."

He sat on the couch dejectedly while I dabbed at his face, trying to remove the red stains. "You're a mess," I laughed.

"Thanks."

"How do you not have a phobia of lipstick?" I asked.

"I think I do."

"Same," I pondered.

"Why? Do old ladies attack you too?"

"No, Tara traumatised me with it when I was younger." He looked at me with raised eyebrows as if asking for me to continue. I sighed. "She thought my hair would look good if it was dip dyed red. She had no dye, you can probably guess the rest."

He burst out laughing, throwing back his head.

"It's not funny, I had to cut off three inches of my hair!" I exclaimed.

That only made him laugh more, so I smacked his arm lightly, sitting next to him on the couch. I couldn't help but start laughing too. I guess it's true, laughter is contagious.

But then so is herpes. Not everything that is contagious is good. Oh God, shut up brain.

"You're so mean to me," I complained, but I was laughing at the same time.

"Sorry, sorry, I couldn't help it." He kissed my forehead and then made a face.

"What?" I asked.

He started laughing again. "You smell like old people perfume."

It took Ryan a long time to recover from his laughing fit, but I didn't mind, I didn't mind the fact that he was laughing at me either. It could have been a lot worse, at least he was laughing, not crying. Mrs Martinez walked through the living room as Ryan was laughing his ass off, she just smiled mouthing thank you. I guess she was just thanking me for keeping him occupied, and keeping his mind off other things.

Once Ryan had gotten over the fact that I smelled like 'old people perfume', he discovered that he too had been infected with the smell. He found this particularly funny, I wasn't entirely sure why.

I know now that when Ryan is overtired he gets giggly, which was why he was finding everything hilarious. At least he wasn't grumpy when we was tired.

He went from extremely giggly, to having his eyelids drooping. I was fully aware that he was supposed to take sleeping pills before he fell asleep, but he seemed perfectly content without them, so I left him be.

He was out cold within minutes, I'm not sure how exactly because the way he was sitting didn't seem very comfortable to me. It's not like I could move him though, you would probably need a forklift to move the guy.

I saw him move his head in his sleep. The simple action, created a domino effect, causing his shoulders to shift, eventually sliding down the couch. I prepared myself for him to land on me, but his head kind of got caught on my shoulder, and then just fell on my lap. the rest of him slumping onto the couch. He frowned in his sleep, moving to get comfortable.

I ran my fingers through his hair. It was soft, like he must've used a buttload of conditioner.

I heard footsteps, and looked up, continuing to comb my fingers through Ryan's hair. Evan emerged, and he was about to say something, but I put a finger to my lips. Not that Ryan is easily woken up, because he isn't. He is one hell of a deep sleeper.

Evan just shook his head. "Your cuteness makes me want to vomit."

~*~*~*~

Hey you guys, guess what? We're almost at a million reads. Woah. I think we can do it before the next update. I might cry when Covered In Ink reaches a million.

Anyways...

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Until next time.