"It's not," Noah says without hesitation. He hadn't come here with the intention of it being his last time. He doesn't know when that will be. Soon, maybe. But not yet.

"You told me to hold on." He takes the bottle from Ronan, rolling onto his back and holding it above his face to look at. The glass is too thick on the bottom to really see through it, though. He offers it back, and meets Ronan's gaze. "I missed you."