Noah's smile is small, fails to reach his eyes. He's trying though, trying in a way Ronan hasn't had the energy for.

"We could go for gelato," he tries even though he's barely been further than the lower level of Hywel in a week. Pizza sounds good, though. "Think we got some candles somewhere in the kitchen. We can stick a few in the pizza and you can make a wish."

Ronan resolutely doesn't think about what Noah might wish for.