![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
know it by heart (Ryan/Kelly)
Title: know it by heart
Pairing: Ryan/Kelly
Spoilers: through "Goodbye Toby"
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,240
Summary: It's his first night in jail, and Ryan's thinking about Kelly. Not that he wants to.
Author's Note: Apparently, this is me "doing my reading for school." Um. Don't tell anyone?
In other news, I am experiencing a resurgence of Ryan/Kelly love so strong it is truly frightening. THEY'LL FIND EACH OTHER AGAIN, THEY WILL, THEY WILL. If we all cross our fingers and hope hard enough, maybe we'll make it happen? Let's do it, guys!
--
The thing is, he’s in jail. It’s nighttime, and he’s in jail, and that’s where it stops and starts all over again, so his brain is just this fucking endless loop of he’s in jail and it’s nighttime and it’s nighttime and he’s in jail and he doesn’t even get why that seems so important, the nighttime part, except for it means he’s going to have to sleep here, which makes it more real somehow, and I wonder if that guy over there has ever killed somebody before, and fuck, since when is this him? This isn’t him. He’s supposed to be in Scranton, flipping through channels, watching a Daily Show rerun or whatever and then going to bed, getting up in the morning, going to work at a job that he hates, being a temp or sucking at sales or making out with Kelly in the supply closet on his lunch break or maybe just hiding from Kelly in the supply closet. Something with Kelly, or at least Michael hitting on him by accident.
He wishes Troy were here to hook him up. He could use something to take the edge off, something to take the edge off, man, are you fucking serious?, he remembers when ‘something to take the edge off’ meant a beer or maybe a joint or like a bag of Doritos or something; how the fuck did he get here? And that is the question.
He thinks about Kelly again, and it’s a little relaxing, revel in the irony. At first, he wonders how she’ll react when she finds out, if she doesn’t know already. She’ll probably be happy, and say something long and confusing and chipper that’ll all boil down to ‘he deserved it,’ and okay, so he wasn’t the greatest boyfriend, but he doesn’t deserve it. Maybe he deserves it. Maybe she and Darryl – Darryl, what is that? – are, like, laughing their asses off about it right now.
This makes it worse, so he tries to think about something else, but Kelly’s just there. It’s weird. He hasn’t thought about Kelly in a really long time. Like, he would sometimes – it’s hard not to when you spend like, what, a year? More than a year – being with somebody, more or less every day, but it’s not like he’d get all emotional about it. He never really missed her or whatever. He was too busy having this new life, this new great life, this one without her or any of that other miserable Scranton shit in it.
He thinks now he might miss her. Of all the fucking exceptional timing.
All of a sudden, he really wishes she could be here; like, he wishes she would appear and start talking. Just about anything, in that way she has: he’d give her a topic, something totally random and ridiculous, and just set her off. He’d say, like, ‘dolphins’ or ‘yogurt’ or ‘Angelina Jolie’ and she’d be off, because even sitting in a fucking jail cell in the middle of the night isn’t enough to shut Kelly Kapoor up, no question. And, okay, maybe this isn’t the first time he’s thought this, exactly. There have been a few nights alone in his apartment – his great, great New York apartment – where he’ll just be sitting there alone, and even though the world’s his motherfucking oyster or whatever, what it all comes down to is that he’s alone at two in the morning, you know? And then he’d think about her, and about how for like a year, his life was never quiet. There was always Kelly talking – like, always. After awhile, the sound of her talking turned into something else besides just her talking, if that makes any sense. It’s like when you’ve got a song you love and you listen to it so many times that you eventually stop hearing it, kind of, but it’s nice to listen to for that reason, just because you know it by heart. Kelly feels that way about, like, Christina Aguilera. She used to bring her CDs over to his place and leave them in the stereo and scattered all around and everything; she was never organized enough to put them back into their cases. When he’d bug her to pick them up, she’d just put them wherever sometimes, too. Like, he’d open Of Montreal and Mandy Moore would be staring up at him. She’d always mess his life up in little ways like that. Even after he moved here, when he was unpacking his CDs, he found like five of her shitty pop albums hidden inside different cases. He threw them out, and he remembers feeling just, like, fantastic when he did it, too. Maybe he even laughed a little, which sounds weird and melodramatic, but he had earned it, okay? One-year-plus dating Kelly fucking Kapoor; he had earned it. And it wasn’t like he was going to give them back to her on one of his trips to Scranton or whatever. They weren’t gonna do the but-let’s-still-be-friends thing. No way.
It’s weird, because when he broke up with her at the office she went crazy and everything, but when she brought his stuff by that night, she was just totally quiet, and didn’t throw anything at him or scream or any of that. He remembers how that had freaked him out; it had really gotten under his skin ‘til he’d gone back to Scranton the first time and it was all ‘hey, I’m pregnant, hey, just kidding, okay, I totally hate you now’ and then he didn’t feel anything besides, ‘Thank God that’s over with.’
He wonders if she’s happy with Darryl.
He does get tired, eventually; it’s a shock, because there’s part of him that still feels like there are, like, sparks in his bones or something, like if something surprised him he’d have a heart attack because he’s that on-edge.
Something to take the edge off, he thinks again, sleepily, and remembers that time they had that stupid office betting competition, or whatever, and Kelly explained how to use Netflix for like three straight minutes. He remembers sitting there, surrounded by all these people he only sort of liked and would have happily never seen again, just watching Kelly ramble on and on, oblivious and bright, and he remembers thinking ‘that’s my girl,’ which is like the fucking stupidest thing you could ever think, like, who is he, his grandpa? And he remembers he kissed her – not on the mouth, but like the cheek or the forehead or something, and he meant it, too, when he did it. He never really fell for her, or anything, and he definitely never got that ‘I can’t believe this is real I’m so lucky’ feeling that you get when you’re really into someone. But it’s weird, because he’s pretty sure he’s never really liked one of his other girlfriends the way he liked Kelly.
He’s still got his one phone call left – whatever, today has been so fucking messed up, he’s not sure he remembers how to use a phone – and when he’s almost asleep, all sitting up and slumped over, listening to the fucking scum of society snoring and muttering around him, the last thing he thinks is that maybe he’ll call Kelly. Right now, the sound of her voice just seems like— he doesn’t know if there’s a word. He just wants to hear it, is all.
Pairing: Ryan/Kelly
Spoilers: through "Goodbye Toby"
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,240
Summary: It's his first night in jail, and Ryan's thinking about Kelly. Not that he wants to.
Author's Note: Apparently, this is me "doing my reading for school." Um. Don't tell anyone?
In other news, I am experiencing a resurgence of Ryan/Kelly love so strong it is truly frightening. THEY'LL FIND EACH OTHER AGAIN, THEY WILL, THEY WILL. If we all cross our fingers and hope hard enough, maybe we'll make it happen? Let's do it, guys!
--
The thing is, he’s in jail. It’s nighttime, and he’s in jail, and that’s where it stops and starts all over again, so his brain is just this fucking endless loop of he’s in jail and it’s nighttime and it’s nighttime and he’s in jail and he doesn’t even get why that seems so important, the nighttime part, except for it means he’s going to have to sleep here, which makes it more real somehow, and I wonder if that guy over there has ever killed somebody before, and fuck, since when is this him? This isn’t him. He’s supposed to be in Scranton, flipping through channels, watching a Daily Show rerun or whatever and then going to bed, getting up in the morning, going to work at a job that he hates, being a temp or sucking at sales or making out with Kelly in the supply closet on his lunch break or maybe just hiding from Kelly in the supply closet. Something with Kelly, or at least Michael hitting on him by accident.
He wishes Troy were here to hook him up. He could use something to take the edge off, something to take the edge off, man, are you fucking serious?, he remembers when ‘something to take the edge off’ meant a beer or maybe a joint or like a bag of Doritos or something; how the fuck did he get here? And that is the question.
He thinks about Kelly again, and it’s a little relaxing, revel in the irony. At first, he wonders how she’ll react when she finds out, if she doesn’t know already. She’ll probably be happy, and say something long and confusing and chipper that’ll all boil down to ‘he deserved it,’ and okay, so he wasn’t the greatest boyfriend, but he doesn’t deserve it. Maybe he deserves it. Maybe she and Darryl – Darryl, what is that? – are, like, laughing their asses off about it right now.
This makes it worse, so he tries to think about something else, but Kelly’s just there. It’s weird. He hasn’t thought about Kelly in a really long time. Like, he would sometimes – it’s hard not to when you spend like, what, a year? More than a year – being with somebody, more or less every day, but it’s not like he’d get all emotional about it. He never really missed her or whatever. He was too busy having this new life, this new great life, this one without her or any of that other miserable Scranton shit in it.
He thinks now he might miss her. Of all the fucking exceptional timing.
All of a sudden, he really wishes she could be here; like, he wishes she would appear and start talking. Just about anything, in that way she has: he’d give her a topic, something totally random and ridiculous, and just set her off. He’d say, like, ‘dolphins’ or ‘yogurt’ or ‘Angelina Jolie’ and she’d be off, because even sitting in a fucking jail cell in the middle of the night isn’t enough to shut Kelly Kapoor up, no question. And, okay, maybe this isn’t the first time he’s thought this, exactly. There have been a few nights alone in his apartment – his great, great New York apartment – where he’ll just be sitting there alone, and even though the world’s his motherfucking oyster or whatever, what it all comes down to is that he’s alone at two in the morning, you know? And then he’d think about her, and about how for like a year, his life was never quiet. There was always Kelly talking – like, always. After awhile, the sound of her talking turned into something else besides just her talking, if that makes any sense. It’s like when you’ve got a song you love and you listen to it so many times that you eventually stop hearing it, kind of, but it’s nice to listen to for that reason, just because you know it by heart. Kelly feels that way about, like, Christina Aguilera. She used to bring her CDs over to his place and leave them in the stereo and scattered all around and everything; she was never organized enough to put them back into their cases. When he’d bug her to pick them up, she’d just put them wherever sometimes, too. Like, he’d open Of Montreal and Mandy Moore would be staring up at him. She’d always mess his life up in little ways like that. Even after he moved here, when he was unpacking his CDs, he found like five of her shitty pop albums hidden inside different cases. He threw them out, and he remembers feeling just, like, fantastic when he did it, too. Maybe he even laughed a little, which sounds weird and melodramatic, but he had earned it, okay? One-year-plus dating Kelly fucking Kapoor; he had earned it. And it wasn’t like he was going to give them back to her on one of his trips to Scranton or whatever. They weren’t gonna do the but-let’s-still-be-friends thing. No way.
It’s weird, because when he broke up with her at the office she went crazy and everything, but when she brought his stuff by that night, she was just totally quiet, and didn’t throw anything at him or scream or any of that. He remembers how that had freaked him out; it had really gotten under his skin ‘til he’d gone back to Scranton the first time and it was all ‘hey, I’m pregnant, hey, just kidding, okay, I totally hate you now’ and then he didn’t feel anything besides, ‘Thank God that’s over with.’
He wonders if she’s happy with Darryl.
He does get tired, eventually; it’s a shock, because there’s part of him that still feels like there are, like, sparks in his bones or something, like if something surprised him he’d have a heart attack because he’s that on-edge.
Something to take the edge off, he thinks again, sleepily, and remembers that time they had that stupid office betting competition, or whatever, and Kelly explained how to use Netflix for like three straight minutes. He remembers sitting there, surrounded by all these people he only sort of liked and would have happily never seen again, just watching Kelly ramble on and on, oblivious and bright, and he remembers thinking ‘that’s my girl,’ which is like the fucking stupidest thing you could ever think, like, who is he, his grandpa? And he remembers he kissed her – not on the mouth, but like the cheek or the forehead or something, and he meant it, too, when he did it. He never really fell for her, or anything, and he definitely never got that ‘I can’t believe this is real I’m so lucky’ feeling that you get when you’re really into someone. But it’s weird, because he’s pretty sure he’s never really liked one of his other girlfriends the way he liked Kelly.
He’s still got his one phone call left – whatever, today has been so fucking messed up, he’s not sure he remembers how to use a phone – and when he’s almost asleep, all sitting up and slumped over, listening to the fucking scum of society snoring and muttering around him, the last thing he thinks is that maybe he’ll call Kelly. Right now, the sound of her voice just seems like— he doesn’t know if there’s a word. He just wants to hear it, is all.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Page 1 of 3