Rory and Kyle's House

[Rory McGough]

Let's Have a Tour:
Picture One: that, that there, is our lovely house. my (Rory's) mom bought it for me when I hit senior year. she said i deserved something better than a dorm. and i mean i couldn't leave kyle behind.
Picture Two and Three: to the right of our house is two bedrooms. the top picture is my bedroom, the lower one is kyle's. both room have dressers, closets and desks. his is just brighter than mine. fucking lucky ducky.
Picture Four: our den. its also where we usually eat. AND the couch pulls out into a bed. so its also a guest room.
Picture Five: our downstairs and only full bath.
Picture Six: our nicer eating area located just off the kitchen. we rarely eat here, but we have it for when family or friends visit.
Picture Seven: da kitchen
Picture Eight: our back deck. there's a grill and a hammock on it now.
Picture Nine: our attic bathroom. its a half bath with just a sink and a toilet.
Picture Ten: our attic, aka our art room. this is where we create music. lyrics, ideas, chords, you name it. my drum set is up here, located on the other end of this picture where you.. can't.. see... oops. most of kyle's instruments are up here too. plus a mic.

Update:


Recently, Kyle's brother Zack moved in with us. So, since we didn't have another room, he's now staying with Kyle. He's got his own bed, they're not like.. sharing.. But its kind of crowded in there now. Sorry Kyle.
(his bed is on the opposite wall of Kyle's)

[Trista Kline]

[ www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=93758674 ]

[ Ron Pope: A Drop in the Ocean ]

Trista’s mind had been a flutter of emotions since she’d last hung out with Kyle. Even now she’d trace her lips with fingers and remember how soft his lips were against hers or how she held him for hours. She had finally come to terms with how she felt about him. She was in love, if this was what love was. She’d stay up for his texts, or her heart would skip a beat when she saw him. Things were just different, and for once she felt just a bit complete. When they were together, she felt human. He made her feel alive, like she had a purpose.

Her mind didn’t feel the same as her heart. It told her to keep her guard up, because things this perfect didn’t exist. Nothing was this perfect, never. But she was a took blinded by her emotions to even fathom the possibility of things going wrong. Kyle was such a beautiful person and his mind was a wonderful place, or so she thought. How could someone she trusted so much or made her complete her, hurt her? Kyle wouldn’t do anything to remotely harm her, right? No, it wasn’t possible. He was too perfect for anything like that. He was the one she’d been waiting for.

When he had asked her to come over for a movie night she couldn’t refuse, now that she would’ve. But something was different, she couldn’t tell what it was though. His voice just… it didn’t sound the same. She shrugged it off, because perhaps it was just that it was getting late. It didn’t matter, she was going to be there soon. She’d taken the bus, uncomfortable as it was, just to get to his house. It hadn’t dropped her off right in front of the house, so there was a bit of a walk to the place. She hadn’t exactly dressed warmly, so with her arms crossed over her chest she walked with her head down.

Her phone was placed in her back pocket, and her journal in her bag. Her mind kept going back to the campfire, and it brought warmth to her body. She was happy, for once in her life, and everything just felt right. Even if Kyle’s voice suggested differently, whatever it was he was going through she would be there to comfort him. She promised she wouldn’t leave him, no matter what the circumstances were. She pulled her phone out and glanced at the time, almost nine. She’d been to his house before for a movie night, so she knew the way. She walked up the steps slowly before knocking firmly on the door.

[Kyle Stockholm]

{ www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=93759210 }

This was going to be hard. Very difficult, and very painful. He'd been preparing for the crash ever since he'd hung up with Trista. A movie night seemed like a harmless way to ask for her presence and though he did intend to watch a movie, he doubted the fact that she'd want to stay. And that hurt him. That hurt him real bad, deep down in the middle of his stomach where butterflies once flew. Now only rocks sat idle in the pit, blocking any lovely butterflies from returning. Now, he only felt weight. Painful, heavy weight. He got anxious just thinking about her, but with Rachel on his mind, the emotions were twisted. And that hurt, too. To be short, Kyle hadn't been feeling well lately.

Head in the clouds, Kyle hadn't even noticed when he'd pulled on a pair of shorts. He rarely wore shorts, and this would've usually bothered him. But nothing could bother him now. The silence in his head was too loud to think over, and the ringing in his ears had clogged any senses that might've been left. He hadn't heard the TV still on in the den, he hadn't heard the dishwasher ding signaling that it was clean. But he did hear someone knocking. Snapped back to reality, Kyle bolted down the stairs and stopped just before the door, collecting himself as much as he could. He still wasn't whole, he hadn't been whole in a long time. But he wasn't pacing. Only shaking.

"Hey, Tris," he opened the door with probably the fakest of smiles, his brow slightly damp with sweat. The hoodie he had on was becoming a burden and causing a bit of a clammy feeling down his back, but he left it where it was, too bothered to find a chair to hang it over. "Come on in," he added, pulling the door the rest of the way open and stepping back to allow her entrance. When she stepped forward, Kyle couldn't help but tilt his head at her in admiration. Rachel was there in the back of his mind, and so was that sophomore from last week. He wouldn't tell her about that girl though... that might end her world. As if this whole Rachel thing wouldn't do that already...

"Didja bring any movies?" Kyle asked as he closed the door behind her, trying to make things seem okay. But things were not okay, and that was clear. He could feel the shake in his voice, and he could see the tics in his hands as he fiddled with the doorknob once, twice and then three times before letting it go and shoving his hands into his pockets. They stood there, in the entryway, like strangers. And it hurt. His face showed it. A frown like that, quickly snapping back into a smile then slowly fading back to a frown, meant nothing more than pure pain and discomfort. And he felt bad for probably making her feel like something was her fault. Nothing was her fault. Nothing.

Everything was his fault.

[Trista Kline]

Even when he opened the door something didn’t seem right, but as soon as she saw his face she couldn’t help but smile. Just seeing him was enough to make her day better. He gave her strength to make it through the day, even in the face of bullies. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw him, and she felt alive just being here. She wondered if he knew how much that night had meant to her, had changed her. She couldn’t stop listening to Elvis’s song, and she played it to fall asleep at night. The demons had settled down and her closet hadn’t been used in weeks. He was the answer to everything.

She paused for a moment when he smiled though. It didn’t feel right, it felt… forced. She tilted her head to the side slightly before entering the house. She was confused to say the least. Even his greeting didn’t seem right. “Hello Kyle,” she greeted in return, but it came out more as a confused question then anything else. He seemed kind of pale, like someone who was ill. But it had really been his eyes that had her concerned. Something in them told her things weren’t quite right. She tried to ignore the feeling of dread. “I didn’t bring anything,” she admitted,” You have all the best movies.”

She was growing more and more concerned by the minute. The air felt still and nothing seemed quite in place. She could see the sweat glistening on his forehead, the very forehead she had kissed when she cradled him that night. She took a step towards him, concern evident on her face. “Kyle… are you okay?” she asked looking at him more closely. She couldn’t help but be concerned, she loved him after all. She felt a new sense of responsibility for him, because he’d told her all his secrets. She wanted to protect him. “You’re shaking,” she whispered as she grabbed his hand and held it in her own. Green eyes looked up from his shaking hands to his eyes.

[Kyle Stockholm]

"I'm-I'm fine," Kyle stuttered, shaking harder when Trista took his hand and instinctively pulling away from her grip. "I, oh.. shoot. I'm sorry, I.." He didn't know what to do. He went for a second to put his hand back in hers but that felt wrong and silly. "Shit," he hissed under his breath then shot a glance up at her from the floor. "I'm fine, I'm really fine. Really fine." Turning rather abruptly, Kyle headed for the den and stood in the middle of the room for a moment, putting his hands up behind his head.

"Its fine that you didn't bring any movies I mean you're kinda right, I do have some awesome ones." His tone was rushed. Rushed, and forced. He sounded like he was either about to burst out screaming or crying, either of which were very likely because the silence in his brain was starting to hurt and when she spoke.. when she spoke... Kyle closed his eyes, bring two fingers up to rub them. He felt like he'd been staring at a computer screen for hours; he was sure his eyes were red because they burned. "Come uh... come sit down I'll uh... you want something to drink or eat or, or something?" He'd started to walk again, but only got to the other side of the coffee table where he again stopped.

Why was this so hard? All he wanted to tell her was that he was dating someone. He just wanted to share his joy. His joy.. was that the right word? Of course it was. He liked Rachel. He liked her a lot. He liked that she made him smile and that she gave him free tacos at Taco Bell. He liked her hair. He liked.. was that it? No that couldn't be it.

Just don't think about it. Just don't think about all the things about Trista that were more important than Rachel. Don't think about that. There's a girl now, a girlfriend. And it wasn't Trista. "Shit," he cursed again, this one more hissy and more forced than the first. Kyle was never one to swear much, only when seriously pained or stressed. And right now, he was both. And he didn't know why. How could it be so hard to look a friend in the eyes and say 'i'm dating someone'? How could it be so hard to look someone in the eyes and not speak at all? How could it be so hard to stand in the same house as that someone?

How could it be so hard to think about that someone?

[Trista Kline]

He wasn’t fine, and she didn’t know whether to be more concerned at the fact that he was lying or that something was wrong. Her brow was furrowed as she tried to make sense of all of this. What had him so distressed that he didn’t want to talk about it? When he pulled his hand away she stood frozen for a moment. It was reflective of after their kiss, again the memories were everywhere. She looked up to him after pulling her own hand back to her, ignoring what had just happened. She couldn’t get over the fact that he’d just lied to her. She could see it written all of his face that something was wrong. And he was cursing, something he never did. In the blink of an eye he was no longer in front of her but in the next room.

She was so confused by his actions, like he was avoiding her. With each passing second she was growing more and more concerned. She wanted to reach out and help, like she’d done so many times before. He was rambling, not like he’d done when they first met. This time it was all a nervous jumble of words. What had him so jittery? His mind seemed to be all over the place, and she struggled to place all the emotions flitting across his face. She followed his instruction as she took a seat on the couch, looking up at him still very worried. “I’m fine,” she said in response to her wanting something. The only thing she wanted was to know what was wrong.

He wasn’t quite pacing about the room, but the movement was still noticeable. She couldn’t ignore the ball of dread building up in the pit of her stomach. Her mind was going off in sirens, but she tried to reassure herself that everything was going to be fine, he was going to be fine. Whatever he was dealing with, she’d take care of him. “Kyle, sit down,” she told him, patting the spot next to him. His pacing about was making her anxious and that worried her. “Something isn’t right,” she pointed out,” you can tell me what’s wrong.” He’d told her his secrets, so what so different now? What could possibly be worse than the demons?

Trista ran a hand through her blonde hair. She was growing increasingly nervous by his actions and movements. It concerned her that something had him so rattled up. Aside from the episode out in the woods, she didn’t know what to make of this. Couldn’t he tell how much she cared about him, how much she loved him? She was ready to do anything for him; she could handle whatever was bothering him. “I promised I wouldn’t go anywhere,” she reminded him as though reassuring she could handle his troubles,” what’s eating away at you?” If only she knew the things going on his head. Her mind wanted her to run, warned her that she didn’t want to hear the rest, but her heart was too blinded by love to listen.

[Kyle Stockholm]

It took a moment, but Kyle sat down beside Trista. Quite like a child, mind you, huffing about and crossing his arms over his chest. It wasn't like he didnt' want to sit, though. He wanted to tell her about Rachel. He needed to. He had this feeling in the back of his mind like maybe that would make the pain go away. Maybe if he just told her, he could focus on thinking about Rachel and stop fantasizing over that night in the woods. But why was it so hard? Never before had Kyle had so much trouble telling someone he had a girlfriend.

"I don't know why this is so hard for me," he confessed lightly under his breath. His arms were still shaking as they crossed his chest, and the vibrations were making his shoulders and neck shake too. Knees bouncing, he probably looked like someone on crack. Slowly, he began to rock back and forth: an attempt to calm down. It wasn't helping, though, and he only found himself sweating more under the pain and pressure of this whole situation.

It had been, what, five minutes since she'd gotten here?

"How does Avengers sound?" Subject change. Smooth move. Obviously, Tirsta knew something was bothering him. She wouldn't have asked if she didn't suspect something. She knew there was something in his mind that wouldn't go away and if it wasn't clear on his face, then it was clear in the fact that he was shaking like a leaf. Shaking his head at the failed attempt to make things seem alright, Kyle whispered 'no' under his breath and turned to look at her, putting one knee up on the couch and setting his hands atop it. A heavy breath in, he held it in his mouth and his eyes grew wide as he tried so hard to say what was there. Exhaling just as hard, he lost it and looked down. He repeated that process twice before grabbing his head with both hands.

"There's this girl... I like... and I don't know why this is so hard for me to tell you because it feels like there's this monster ripping at my throat telling me not to tell you and it hurts, it hurts so bad. But.. but I just had to tell you, Trista. Cuz you're one of my best friends and.. I dunno, best friends tell each other when they're dating someone."

There it was, flat out in the open and Kyle didn't feel one ounce better about getting it off his chest. In fact, after lifting his eyes to hers, he only felt his heart sink lower and damn near fall through to the floor. The look in her eyes was soul crushing, and it hurt to keep eye contact. Looking away, Kyle grabbed at his knees and pushed his fingers hard against the bare skin. Bare skin.. what an odd thing. Shorts were strange.

So he focused on the shorts.

[Trista Kline]

Trista didn’t know if she felt better now that Kyle was sitting on the couch, but it certainly beat him pacing around the room. Even now he looked like a child sitting next to her. He seemed rather antsy for a simple movie night. She was just worried about him because she constantly wanted to make sure he was okay and reach out if necessary. When he would start to shake or jerk about, all she wanted to do was hold him, tell him things were going to be alright, and protect him. She couldn’t ignore the ball of dread building in her stomach, but she tried to remain positive. She’d handled his secrets, she could handle this now.

She tilted her head to the side and she turned in her seat to face him. “Hard for you to tell me what?” she asked, mind drifting to the possibilities. Tell her someone had passed on or that he was about to have another episode? And for a moment she thought of the chances of him confessing the feelings she had for him. Perhaps this love wasn’t just felt by her. Had that night meant something as well? Surely she couldn’t have been the only one to walk away feeling alive when they navigated their way back to the city hand in hand? She still had his hat that she wore to bed each night since. Or perhaps maybe he was trying to ask for it back politely.

It didn’t feel like it had been a long time, maybe five minutes give or take? In such a short amount of time, it felt like so much had happened. Or maybe time was just passing by very slowly. She let out an amused chuckle under her breath when he suggested a movie. “Yes, yes, that sound good,” she told him, shaking her head slightly in amusement. He was just all over the place with his thoughts and words. She was trying to act calm for his sake, though panic was definitely starting to set in, but she wasn’t sure why. She watched in silence as he shifted upon the couch and though mentally preparing himself to tell her what exactly was going on. Should she be doing the same? A part of her was trying to think of all the worst possible outcomes, but the other part told her there was just nothing to worry about.

When he finally started to talk she listened intently, holding onto every word he spoke. Her eyes lit up in hope when he started to talk about a girl that he liked. She had only assumed he was talking about her. The night in the forest had meant something to him after all. Though she was confused why it hurt, because this wasn’t supposed to hurt him. Was he scared she didn’t feel the same? She nodded when he called her his best friend, because she was and he was hers. Nothing could’ve prepared her for what was to come next. He was… what? She blinked in confusion not exactly sure she had heard him correctly. “You’re dating someone?” she repeated, more to herself then to him.


Of course he was dating someone else. In a split second the hope that had once filled her eyes was gone. It didn’t quite sink in, the fact that he was dating someone who wasn’t her. But … but that night in the woods. Had it all meant nothing? Perhaps it had meant more to her than him. That kiss had swept her off her feet and had caused her to fall in love. Was this the falling part, because she was most certainly falling apart at the seams. She had subconsciously brought her hand to trace her lower lip, her other hand gripping the opposite elbow maybe a little too tightly. She breathing had quickened a bit, but she tried to hide it.

It felt like someone had just dumped cold water on her. She should’ve known better than to believe the fairytale in her head. It had all been too good to be true. She just couldn’t shake the image of them kissing, or his hands through her hair. Everything. It had all been for nothing. And she did something she never thought she’d do- she lied. “I’m happy for you,” it was quiet, broken. She wasn’t happy, far from it. She offered a fake smile, and it hurt. As soon as she said it she couldn’t look him in the eye, not anymore. She didn’t want him to see just how broken she was, slowly retreating into herself. She was holding herself, fingernails digging into her skin slightly.

Everything really hurt. She felt like she was literally suffocating. What had happened between now and then? Was it because she wasn't normal? She should've trusted her head more, because it had never steered her wrong. She wanted to cry, she did. But she had to be strong. She shouldn't intrude on his happiness, because that's all that mattered to her. "Is she nice?" She asked, trying to get her mind off things. It wasn't helping. She knew that even though her heart was crushed, shed continue to be around him, to help him, to love him.

[Kyle Stockholm]

Kyle looked up from his knees when Trista said she was happy for him. He didn't believe her.. not one bit. Kyle wasn't sure he was even happy for himself. There was no way she was. No way. He couldn't let her be. He didn't want her to be. Its not that he wanted her to be mad or anything. He just... he felt this strange want for her to say it wasn't alright. He wanted her to say something, anything, about... Well. He didn't know. He just, for some reason, didn't want her to be and didn't believe that she was happy about this. That only made the pain stronger.

It felt like jealousy. Except, it certainly wasn't jealousy. A weight in the pit of his stomach, around where he might feel hungry or full. He felt it in his spine too, inching towards his brain and the base of his skull. His neck hurt a little bit, he felt like he'd been up craning over a computer for hours. To lay down would be lovely. But he wasn't going to go anywhere. This situation was still far too uncomfortable.

"Is she nice?" Kyle repeated, putting his hand on his forehead and then running it around the back of his head, through his hair. "Yea.. yea she's pretty nice to me." What was he supposed to say? No? Would that better his chances of her disapproving of this relationship? Which still confused him... He didn't know why, but for some reason, the fact that she was okay with this just really made him angry. Kyle, for some reason, wanted her to hate him. He wanted her to tell him no, that this wasn't okay, and that she, as his best friend, didn't approve. But here she was, lovely as ever, telling him that she was happy for him.

"You're not.. upset?" he tried. He really wanted to know. This feeling of discomfort and disappointment was really starting to tug at his heart. Its not that he wanted her to say she loved him but... some reassurance might be nice. Fuck, did that sound like this was all a game? Suddenly, he felt like such a horrible person. Was this all some big test? Was he subconsciously testing himself? Trista?

Questions riddling his brain, Kyle felt his left arm twitching. Beneath his skin, he was more than shaking. But that arm, thankfully, was faced away from Trista. He hoped she couldn't see it.. he didn't want any distractions.

(i'm sorry this post is quite mixed up i'm not sure where my head is haha)

[Trista Kline]

There was a lump in her throat as she tried to swallow. It hurt, everything hurt. Her eyes stung but she couldn't allow herself to cry. Anything but that, anything. Her eyes tried to find something to catch her attention. She could t look at him. If she did the. She'd surely cry, no doubt about that. There was no way around this. She thought about it, and the more she hated herself. Maybe if she'd done something different he wouldn't be dating that other girl. She would be that other girl if maybe she hasn't been so different. If. Only she'd been perfect.

She ran a hand through her hair, not sure what to do with her hands anymore. Actually, she was sure about anything. Everything she'd ever known had been thrown in her face. She wanted to scream, but like before, she couldn't find her voice. She slowly felt herself slipping away. She'd come so far from the girl just a few weeks ago. Where had she gone? Out of reach, out of touch. And like before her demons woke and plagued her mind.

She tried to calm her beating heart, but she felt like she'd lost a piece of herself. Was this what a true broken heart felt like? She hated herself for becoming so emotionally invested. And through it all she couldn't hate him, never. Even now as she caught a glimpse of him through the corner of her eye, her heart would flutter and then ache when she remembered he wasn't hers. What a cold world it was.

She was glad to hear she was a nice girl. Why wouldn't she be? "That's good," she said softly," you deserve only the best." It struck her, he deserved nothing but perfect, and you can't be perfect as damaged goods. She'd only weigh him down, only hold him back. He didn't need that, not with such a beautiful mind. "Upset?" She thought about telling him the truth, but she could only answer with another lie," of course not" she was devastated, hurting... Heartbroken. "You have to do what your heart tells you, right?" And hers was telling her to run.

The air was heavy, so thick you could cut it with a knife. She looked at him with sad eyes. She was the pathetic one. He'd been able to be strong and go find a girl while she'd hung too a silly romance. But it had felt so real. Love. What a false sense of hope. "What's her name?" She tried to converse, act like she wasn't crushed," must be an amazing girl to claim your heart." She swallowed hard again. None of this felt right. 'Trista, you foolish girl. You have no one to blame but yourself,' she thought angrily to herself.