The ache in Ronan's chest clenches tighter at the catch in Noah's voice. Stuck as they are in this fucking town, Ronan knows it's been better for Noah than anything he could've had in Henrietta. And Noah, maybe more than anyone, deserves to feel.

If only it didn't come with the shitty feelings, too.

Fucking Krem.

Noah nestles closer against him, head ducked against Ronan's neck as he shudders and Ronan holds him tighter, resting his cheek to the top of Noah's head. He's reminded of Matthew suddenly, of being ten years old and holding his brother after a particularly nasty fall. Noah's pain, however invisible, cuts far deeper, he knows.

"Feeling's are shit," he says after a few moments. "Fuck 'em."