In truth, Ronan sort of tunes out about three paragraphs in, listening more to the steady cadence of Noah's voice. His eyes drift shut and his breathing slowly evens out.

He isn't sleeping yet. He isn't dreaming.

But he's calm. Calmer than he's been in what feels like weeks.

And he has no idea how many minutes have passed before he reaches out to lightly cup his hand over Noah's mouth to quiet him. "Didn't think you'd actually do it," he says, his eyes still closed, and he pulls his hand back. "You don't have to stay."