for Ronan

Oct. 11th, 2015 06:30 pm
iwasmore: (Default)
[personal profile] iwasmore
Noah had let it go long enough. He had promised Blue he would talk to Ronan, that he'd try to make it right. He at least needed to warn Ronan about Kavinsky, if he already didn't know. Gansey had probably told him, but Noah held onto it as an excuse, anyway. He didn't, however, want to look at his feelings toward Ronan too closely. He was afraid he'd only get angry again, too upset to be useful. But Blue had been right, and he knew Ronan, and Ronan was too stubborn to go out of his way to try and mend things.

We're done.

Anyone could have said that in the heat of the moment, but with Ronan, Noah wasn't entirely convinced he didn't mean it.

Still, he felt around for Ronan, and found him, materializing nearby. They were somewhere in Cabeswater, and Noah wasn't surprised. He watched Ronan for a long moment before making himself known.

"Hey."

Date: 2015-10-12 11:34 pm (UTC)
thedreamthief: (hide)
From: [personal profile] thedreamthief
"Because he nearly shot Chainsaw out of the sky," Ronan snaps. "And, no, I don't give a fuck if it was an accident. So yeah, I punched him just like I'd do to anyone else stupid enough to hurt her. And then I walked away and he came after me. So if you want to go on thinking that your fucking boyfriend is a perfect gem who can do no wrong, if you want to believe him over someone who's been you friend for fucking years, then-- then that's your own goddamn choice."

The rope is nearly a ball now, a tightly knit web of knots. Ronan digs his fingers into it as he gets to his feet. "I don't want your fucking truce," he says, and the trees shake around them, leaves dropping to the forest floor. I want the friend who takes my side over some asshole he's just met, he doesn't say, keeping his mouth firmly shut before turning away to growl. "Just leave me the fuck alone."

Date: 2015-10-13 12:39 am (UTC)
thedreamthief: (hide)
From: [personal profile] thedreamthief
Regret snags on Ronan's breastbone the second all the words are out. It snags and it stays, claws digging in as he watches Noah cave inward, a quiet breath of words and then a flicker into nothingness.

It's a familiar ache, but sharper this time. Sharp enough to draw blood.

Ronan Lynch lives his life in regrets, but this time it feels like too much. He glares down at the stupid, glittery ball of rope in his hand and then hurls it, ignoring the brutal slice of pain that rips through his still-injured shoulder as it goes sailing toward the trees.

It lands, too gently, several yards away, slipping into a useless piece of rope. Ronan drops to the grass, a useless piece of human, and buries his face in his drawn-up knees.

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Noah Czerny

August 2017

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