[Ryan waits, head slightly tilted; he's not entirely sure what else John has to say, whether it's just 'goodnight' or something else, and when he hears it-
He's still not sure what to think. Coming from John, it's- nicer than the same words would be from anyone else, actually. Some people deal in platitudes, but he isn't one of them, wouldn't say it just because. It makes his chest tighten-- throat too, he realizes belatedly-- as he bites his lip, just as uncertain of what to say in return. There are things wrong with him, it's just... well, shitty, honestly, to throw that back at someone, and anything else he'd like to say or do to respond just wouldn't be right. It's appreciated, it really is, but he has no idea how to handle those exact words right now.
And in the end, he doesn't say anything about it. Just takes it for what it is, tries not to turn around too fast and make it obvious he's hiding his face before John mistakes getting a little emotional for getting upset.]
[He did that wrong. Not really a surprise. He's largely in uncharted waters with Ryan, being friends and sharing feelings and thoughts he's always believed were meant to be kept to himself.]
'Night. [His physical voice basically shuts the door. He knows this conversation is over. Curling his legs up enough to grab the top of the blanket, he stretches out beneath it and lies back down.
This'll have to be explained to Petre eventually, too. But honestly? Fuck Petre.]
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He's still not sure what to think. Coming from John, it's- nicer than the same words would be from anyone else, actually. Some people deal in platitudes, but he isn't one of them, wouldn't say it just because. It makes his chest tighten-- throat too, he realizes belatedly-- as he bites his lip, just as uncertain of what to say in return. There are things wrong with him, it's just... well, shitty, honestly, to throw that back at someone, and anything else he'd like to say or do to respond just wouldn't be right. It's appreciated, it really is, but he has no idea how to handle those exact words right now.
And in the end, he doesn't say anything about it. Just takes it for what it is, tries not to turn around too fast and make it obvious he's hiding his face before John mistakes getting a little emotional for getting upset.]
--'night, John.
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'Night. [His physical voice basically shuts the door. He knows this conversation is over. Curling his legs up enough to grab the top of the blanket, he stretches out beneath it and lies back down.
This'll have to be explained to Petre eventually, too. But honestly? Fuck Petre.]