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hadriel_logs2015-10-12 01:38 pm
unknowable) wrote in hadriel_logs2015-10-12 01:38 pm
Entry tags:
I think I'll stay here
Who: Gansey (mintly), Ronan (greywaren), Adam (unknowable), Noah (casperdisaster), and whoever else!
What: Claiming a house, getting settled in, oh god why are we here
Where: House 1303
When: 10/10-ish
Warnings: Confused teenagers, mental trauma, Ronan's dirty mouth
[It's not the first time they've been pulled into an unwelcoming, dangerous land, so maybe it's easier for these boys to acclimate. Anyway, no one's been eaten by a bear, and they've managed to both find each other and find a house to live in. There might be no food or electricity, but there'll be a roof over their heads, and that's something.
They still need to explore a bit, settle in, claim rooms, and take care of cuts and bruises caused by their unfortunate arrival (and bears, and little girls with swords), but at least now they've got a home base to do it in.
The Raven boys can be found at 1303 in the first spiral of houses. If you would like to drop by and say hello or interact with Gansey, Ronan, Adam, or Noah, feel free to tag in!]
mintly), Ronan (greywaren), Adam (unknowable), Noah (casperdisaster), and whoever else!What: Claiming a house, getting settled in, oh god why are we here
Where: House 1303
When: 10/10-ish
Warnings: Confused teenagers, mental trauma, Ronan's dirty mouth
[It's not the first time they've been pulled into an unwelcoming, dangerous land, so maybe it's easier for these boys to acclimate. Anyway, no one's been eaten by a bear, and they've managed to both find each other and find a house to live in. There might be no food or electricity, but there'll be a roof over their heads, and that's something.
They still need to explore a bit, settle in, claim rooms, and take care of cuts and bruises caused by their unfortunate arrival (and bears, and little girls with swords), but at least now they've got a home base to do it in.
The Raven boys can be found at 1303 in the first spiral of houses. If you would like to drop by and say hello or interact with Gansey, Ronan, Adam, or Noah, feel free to tag in!]
no subject
They might never get home. He knows that, and he knows that it'll weigh heavier on Ronan than on the rest of them. He's seen Ronan at the Barns, he knows what it means to him. Adam has never had a home like that. He doesn't even really know where his home is anymore. If he had something like the Barns to return to, he would probably explode, too.
He goes to the kitchen, finds water, and retrieves bandages and other supplies from his bag. There's really nothing he can do right now except this. Regardless of what Ronan or Gansey might say, Adam knows that their being here is ultimately his fault, and while he can feel pricked by injustice since he had no choice, that doesn't change the reality of it. What else can he do, but try to make up for it?
He goes to Ronan's room, noting the open door, and doesn't pause as he crosses the threshold. His voice is quiet.]
Sit up. Let's clean off the blood before we get a bandage on that.
no subject
He knows that Adam can't really empathize with why he wants to get back so badly. None of them do- they understand his reasons, sure, but being cut off from the Barns feels like being cut off from his very soul, and he doesn't think that any of the others can really understand the magnitude of it. It makes him- cruel, maybe?- to be so angry, but he doesn't know how else to be. He thinks about all the times he was in Monmouth, staring at the ceiling like this, when the Barns was only a half hour drive away. He thinks about now, when he can't reach the Barns if he had all the time in the world, and it snarls something inside of him, makes him hate every inaction, every hesitation, every time he relented when Gansey said no.
Adam wants him to move. Adam hadn't really taken sides, but Ronan knows that he blames himself in all of this mess, and that's unfair, even if his actions did ultimately bring them here. But he can't- Ronan is in no place to reassure anyone of anything, and he's definitely not able to defer any of Adam's self-loathing, so he simply follows the commands and heaves himself up with a long exhale. It takes him a moment, but eventually he scoots back a little on the bed and tilts his neck a little so that the injury is a little easier to access. And it's not- bad, it wasn't deep enough to puncture a lung and not much wider than the width of Arya's sword, but it's bleeding pretty badly and will probably need a little tending to if they want to avoid infection.
He doesn't look at Adam. Not right now.]
You don't have to.
no subject
He sits next to Ronan on the bed, wetting some gauze and using it to wipe the blood away, cleaning the wound. Briefly, his eyes go to Ronan's hand, checking to see that he didn't split the skin on his knuckles when he hit the door a moment ago. Adam will take care of that too, if it's necessary. He's getting used to patching Ronan up. Some part of him likes being useful in this way. Some other part that he quietly loathes just selfishly likes the chance to touch Ronan. He makes sure not to linger.
Adam's hands are careful but certain, trying not to cause Ronan any more pain than he has to. This much, he knows how to do. He focuses on Ronan's wound, not allowing his eyes to wander. It doesn't look like it needs stitches, in Adam's inexpert opinion, just a good-sized bandage and some care. Which is good, because Adam would rather not stitch Ronan up again.
He sets aside the bloodied gauze and looks at Ronan, then, fingers going still against his shoulder.]
I should put some antibiotic gel on it before the bandage. It might sting.
no subject
He wants to be attentive here, wants to remember every moment of Adam's fingers pressed against his bare shoulder, Adam's careful eyes on his wound, Adam's weight leaning toward him on the bed, but it's- difficult to focus. Everything just seems hollow, in light of where they are. Ronan is lost in his thoughts, torn between the despair of never seeing home again and the anticipation of Adam's hands on him. Of course, with that comes guilt, because Adam hasn't said anything about their conversation yet, and even though he couldn't help being stabbed it feels almost like he's taking advantage of this situation to be near him.
Stupid. That's not really what this is about at all and he knows it.
Adam's eyes are on him. Ronan slowly lifts his head to meet his gaze and then nods, before letting his shoulders drop again. He braces himself for the sting of course, but it's done distantly, like he's not really expecting it to hurt all that much.]
Yeah, go ahead.
[Ronan tightens his hand into a fist, idly testing his knuckles for soreness or bruising. Luckily, he seems to have evaded any further hand injuries for now, and so he lets it drop back into his lap with a sigh.]
no subject
He squeezes the gel onto his fingertips, rubs them together to warm it slightly before applying it with careful pressure to Ronan's wound. It's still bleeding sluggishly, but it isn't as if it's the first time Adam will have to wash blood off his hands. Not even the first time it'll be Ronan's. He makes sure it's covered as best he can before pulling back to wipe his hands off and get the bandage and surgical tape.
He focuses on the wound, and nothing else. He doesn't think Ronan wants him there, despite whatever they might have talked about before. And - yeah, it stings. But it's not a surprise. It isn't as if Adam hasn't had plenty of times where he doesn't even want himself around, much less anyone else. And Adam fucked up, and now they're here, and he can't do anything to fix that.]
Almost done.
[He presses the bandage over Ronan's wound and tapes it in place, smoothing his fingers over the tape so it lies flat on Ronan's skin, not letting himself think that it's awkward or that it could be nice. Any illicit thrill is rather easily crushed by the knowledge that Ronan does not want him there, doesn't want Adam touching him or near him right now.]
no subject
He can tell that his attitude is infectious. Adam knew he was on edge before coming in the room, but something about his posture has changed even so, pulled back into himself and closed off from everything else. Ronan supposes that he should be feeling guilty for that as well, but the guilt doesn't quite fit in yet, not when he's still so raw over the fight, the realization of how far they've gotten from Henrietta. It's nobody's fault, and he wishes that he could tell Adam that, but the words stick on his tongue because he wants somebody to blame. It's not Adam's fault- it's not really even Gansey's- but Ronan doesn't know what he can be angry at if he admits that there's nothing to be angry at, so he keeps quiet for now.
Instead, he doesn't stop leaning when Adam pulls back from applying the bandage. The lack of resistance sways him forward in slow motion, and he feels- sluggish maybe, drunk off of his anger and helplessness to the situation, with nothing to do but to press forward, as if woozy, until his forehead makes contact with Adam's shoulder and his spine sags as he lets the other boy hold his weight.
He doesn't... really want to be held, and the lashes of his tattoo look like they might cut through Adam's hands if he so much as tried, but just this- the support, the leaning, it lets him fully exhale for what feels like the first time since they came here. Ronan still feels like there are knots in his chest, and he doesn't really confide in people for comfort or support as much as he just doesn't lie, so he's not lying now.]
I-
[Adam still smells like Cabeswater.]
...I want to go home.
[It's that simple. Ronan says it quietly, as if whispering it will make the desire somehow seem less childlike- because it is childlike. They can't. They aren't. It's not something that can be changed and he knows that, and he knows that whining about it won't solve anything, but he can't help it. His heart feels like it's going to just burst with the weight of the impossibility that's been added to their shoulders, and he doesn't- he doesn't know what to do with that, except this: this stupid, pointless weakness that can only really be shown after the explosion that left his knuckles red.]
no subject
He doesn't hold Ronan. He wouldn't, not unless he was sure that was what Ronan wanted, and at the moment he's almost sure of the opposite. But he accepts Ronan's weight against him, gives what support he can, and after a moment his hand comes up to brush gently through the short strands of Ronan's hair. The lightest of touches.
It's not prickly, actually. He noticed that the first time. It's soft against his fingers, even short as it is.
He can't give Ronan platitudes or promises. He can't lie to him right now. Even if he wanted to, he doesn't have the energy for it, doesn't have the strength to weave a convincing lie and make it sound like he means it. And at the base of it, he doesn't want to. Adam had thought before that he could find a way home for them. He doesn't think that anymore. He can't make another promise that he would only break. He's let Ronan down enough times already. But he can't stay silent, either.]
Me too.
[His voice is just as quiet. It doesn't mean the same thing coming from his lips. He knows that. Ronan's home is beautiful, it's home, it's a place full of happy memories, full of a loving family, full of impossible things and dreams and wild magic. It fits him so well, it's such a part of him, and Ronan deserves to have that. He deserves to have a place like that, and to be unable to return can only be torture.
Adam's home was never anything like that, but he misses it anyway. He has for months, even before coming here, deeply and shamefully, even though there was never any magic or dreams or impossible things, just walking on eggshells and tension and fear. But it was home, it was the only home he's ever known, and he hates himself for still missing it as much as he does. It's not fair, to compare his homesickness to Ronan's, and he knows that. But he hasn't said it aloud in so long, hasn't even admitted it to himself. It's the only thing he can offer, as shameful as it is.
If he could find a way to get Ronan home, he would, even if that meant being without him here. Adam would do it in a second. But he can't. He can't do anything but offer up his own weakness in return for Ronan's.]
no subject
But... but Adam misses home too. Ronan tenses a little when he hears that, makes a move to look up at him, before deciding better of it and leaning back against him, his temple pressed against Adam's shoulder, breath just barely ghosting over his throat. Of course he wants to go home. Home is- it's Henrietta, impossibility and magic and everything he's ever known. It's his family, as shitty as it is, and Ronan doesn't know how Adam could love it, doesn't know how Noah could still love Whelk- the actual mechanism of lingering after an abuser never sat right with him, and it makes him angry to think that two of his friends are somehow caught in that, because why would you love something that hurts you so much? And then he thinks about the taillights of Niall Lynch's car in his dreams, the blood that had spattered into the wheel well of the BMW, a warm chest pressed against his shoulders as firm hands guided his wrist to pivot as he punches a bag, and- fuck, he doesn't know. He doesn't know any of it.
So he ducks his head in just a fraction closer, nose bumping awkwardly against the smooth lines of Adam's neck. There's a freckle buried in his hairline that he'd never noticed before, a hundred soft hairs at the back of his neck, and Ronan's mouth brushes against his throat as he speaks.]
I'm sorry.
[It's not really a kiss as much as it is just- a quick connection, like he's trying to speak to the very core of him, and Ronan pulls back after another moment or two, before sitting back up entirely. As much as he might wish that it would last longer, he's also well aware of Adam's boundaries, of what they are to one another, of his own defensiveness, and he doesn't want to push at any of those and risk upsetting the delicate balance that they'd managed to foster in the past few minutes.
He stares down at the bedspread, not really bothering to clarify what he's apologizing for. I'm sorry I was a shit, I'm sorry you can't go home, I'm sorry you want to go home, I'm sorry I gave you no choice, I'm sorry for what's been done- but it's there, and it's open enough that Adam can probably derive his own meaning from it.]
I can, uh- I can clean this up.
[He nods toward the empty packaging from the bandage and other various things that Adam used to patch him up. Safer territory, at least.]
no subject
It's almost enough that he doesn't hear what Ronan says, but he does. Apologies from Ronan Lynch are rare as unicorns, and while there is nothing in particular Ronan needs to apologize for, Adam knows that there are a multitude of things it could be for. And he knows it doesn't really need to be specific, in the end. It's enough even without that, because Ronan didn't owe him an apology for anything and Adam didn't expect one, and that makes it something else entirely.
Ronan pulls away, and for a moment all Adam wants in the world is to pull him back, to test if that's true, if Ronan really does want to kiss him. To see if Adam could give him something real, some better kind of comfort, with his hands and lips and everything else he has to offer, as inadequate as it might seem to Adam, because maybe it's more than that to Ronan.
But he lets Ronan go, because they're both raw and vulnerable, a little angry and a lot homesick, and everything could shatter in a moment with a wrong word or an unwelcome movement, and Adam knows he isn't ready, no matter how much he might want to be.
He reaches out, though, smooths the tape holding the bandage against Ronan's shoulder, gentle contact held for just a moment longer than it needs to be. Because he wants to, and because he needs Ronan to know that it's all right, that what he did is fine, it hasn't changed anything, it wasn't unwelcome. That Ronan is, maybe, allowed to touch him a little.
Maybe that's cruel. Adam doesn't know anymore. He's trying so hard to figure it all out, what the best thing is for both of them, what will hurt least in the end, but sometimes all he wants is a brief moment of contact.]
Yeah. Keep the rest of the gauze, you should change the bandage tomorrow.
[He looks away then, because it's safer territory but it's also a reminder that this is all real, and a moment ago he felt Ronan's lips against his skin, and that's - stupid and little and meaningless, but his ears feel hot and he's embarrassed, suddenly, at how transparent he must be, touching Ronan like that.]
I - better go.
no subject
But Adam didn't hate it. That's the important part. He didn't hate what Ronan did, and he touched him like that afterward and that means... it means something, doesn't it? That he wants to touch him, maybe, that the not-kiss was alright- or just that the bandage was already a little rumpled.
It feels vaguely like he's navigating a minefield. He knows that Adam won't explode about something like this, not when he cares so much for Ronan's heart, but he doesn't know the right thing to do, the right way to go, and if Ronan kissed him right now, would it end their waiting or just end the possibility of it ever happening? He hadn't really thought about what he was doing before, he was too consumed in heartache for his home, for Adam's longing after his own home, too guilty for what he's done, for what Adam has had to go through, and he'd just- done it. It felt right, but now he doesn't know if he's just complicated everything again.
Adam is flushing, he realizes. Adam is looking away and pulling back, and Ronan is summarily reminded that they're currently in the process of changing the subject and letting Adam leave. So he nods once, the movement short and to the point, and gathers up the empty wrappers before moving to stand.]
Right.
[There's no wastebin in his room, so Ronan moves toward the dresser and opens the first drawer before just dumping the paper and plastic in there and closing it again. He'll throw them away properly someday- or he won't. It doesn't really matter.
He doesn't turn back at Adam, not right away.]
I'll see you later.
no subject
He looks at Ronan, the tattoo stark against the skin of his back. Adam doesn't know what they're going to do here, if they'll find a way to survive, if Ronan can reconcile being stuck here. He hopes so - he thinks maybe somehow, in some way, he might have helped a little, though he can't quite believe that could be true - but he doesn't know for certain. He just knows they can't fall apart, and they're all too close to that edge. Adam is no exception.
But it's hard to hold on to his train of thought. Hard to worry about the bigger picture when his thoughts keep pausing on Ronan's hair against his fingers, Ronan's breath on his neck, his lips moving so faintly against Adam's skin. It's stupid and teenage and hormonal, and logically Adam knows that, but it doesn't change the fact that he's so easily undone by that simple, far too intimate contact.
And he needs to leave before either of them do something stupid. Ronan probably needs some time alone anyway. Adam definitely does.]
Yeah. See you later.
[Adam would not call his swift retreat fleeing, exactly, but it does feel that way. He's not ready, he knows he isn't, and he is always cautious, always careful, especially when it comes to something as invaluable as Ronan's heart. He knows that what he does - leave, go to the room that's now his own, close his door - is the best thing to do.
But that doesn't mean he doesn't think the whole time about staying.]