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for Ronan
One of the worst parts about being a ghost had been Noah's inability to remain corporeal at all times. He'd hated it, fading in and out of existence. The spell, the talisman he wore around his neck, they prevented that. Now he existed at all times. He'd been grateful for it. He should, still, be grateful for it. He was. But at the moment he wished he could blink out of time and space and just not be. Just for a little while.
Breaking up with Krem had been a hard decision. Maybe the hardest he'd ever made. He'd given up the best thing in his life, when he hadn't even had to. Except that he did, because the best thing had been too much. Sharing his boyfriend was something he discovered was more difficult to do than he thought it would be. Maybe he should have known from the beginning, when Krem had told him about Thomas and it felt like his heart was being squeezed. But he thought it had only been because Krem hadn't told Thomas about him. He thought he could make it work, be whatever Krem wanted him to be because Krem had been worth it. If only Noah had been stronger, or less needy. More or less of whatever made a person able to be with multiple partners.
He wanted to be, but his emotions wouldn't cooperate.
So now he had nothing where there'd been so much, and he chose this for himself. He felt stupid, regretful, uncertain. Had he done the right thing? For himself? For Krem? But Krem wasn't willing to give up Thomas, or Hild, or his freedom to choose who he wanted to be with. Noah didn't have a right to ask it, but he thought that was answer enough. That was what Krem chose for himself, that was what he needed, and wanted. It wasn't what Noah wanted anymore, so this was all that could be done. He had tried, and he hadn't been able to make it work.
Noah pulled his necklace from under his shirt, lifting it over his head. He held it in front of his face. He'd left Prunam with Krem, and he'd almost left his necklace, too. Krem would have kept it safe, and if something bad happened, did it matter so much? It wasn't like anyone needed him around permanently anymore.
Maybe he shouldn't have tried playing at human in the first place.
Breaking up with Krem had been a hard decision. Maybe the hardest he'd ever made. He'd given up the best thing in his life, when he hadn't even had to. Except that he did, because the best thing had been too much. Sharing his boyfriend was something he discovered was more difficult to do than he thought it would be. Maybe he should have known from the beginning, when Krem had told him about Thomas and it felt like his heart was being squeezed. But he thought it had only been because Krem hadn't told Thomas about him. He thought he could make it work, be whatever Krem wanted him to be because Krem had been worth it. If only Noah had been stronger, or less needy. More or less of whatever made a person able to be with multiple partners.
He wanted to be, but his emotions wouldn't cooperate.
So now he had nothing where there'd been so much, and he chose this for himself. He felt stupid, regretful, uncertain. Had he done the right thing? For himself? For Krem? But Krem wasn't willing to give up Thomas, or Hild, or his freedom to choose who he wanted to be with. Noah didn't have a right to ask it, but he thought that was answer enough. That was what Krem chose for himself, that was what he needed, and wanted. It wasn't what Noah wanted anymore, so this was all that could be done. He had tried, and he hadn't been able to make it work.
Noah pulled his necklace from under his shirt, lifting it over his head. He held it in front of his face. He'd left Prunam with Krem, and he'd almost left his necklace, too. Krem would have kept it safe, and if something bad happened, did it matter so much? It wasn't like anyone needed him around permanently anymore.
Maybe he shouldn't have tried playing at human in the first place.
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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."
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His tears finally taper off, but he doesn't let go of Ronan, shifting until he's comfortable, snuggling close.
"Will you stay with me tonight?" he whispers.
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He only hums in response to Noah's question, gives the back of Noah's neck a light squeeze as he tips his head back. "Yeah, I'll keep guard," he says, glancing up at Chainsaw still perched on the high ledge of Noah's wall and then back down at the boy lying half atop him, warm and whole and hurting.
There's a familiar ache in his chest and an itch under his skin and Ronan still wants to snap every single one of Krem's fingers in half, but for now he takes another breath and whispers, "Get some rest."
no subject
He tries to think of other things, not Krem things. Instead he tries to conjure memories of what he and Ronan used to get up to at Monmouth. He wants to say it: remember when we made a bonfire in the parking lot, remember when we mixed all of Gansey's records up, remember when you threw me out a window? But he can't make the words leave his mouth. Instead his nods at Ronan's suggestion of sleep, and closes his eyes.
"Thanks," he says, fingers curling into Ronan's shirt to hold on.