Ronan stepping toward Gansey seems to deflate him a little, although his hands are still white-knuckled on his arms. "Yes, maybe I'm panicking. Maybe I should be panicking when two of my best friends are keeping secrets like this from me. Maybe panic is an entirely rational reaction."

Gansey snaps his own jaw shut, teeth grinding beneath the skin of his cheek, and he takes a few steps away, as though physically removing himself from the situation even slightly will help. Ronan's right, of course. He's panicking, his mind divided into too many contrary pieces that all come together into a black void of death. Ronan would know, he's seen it enough times before. Is he relieved? Is he terrified? Does he want to die, or does he just not want to have to figure out what comes next? Is there a next? His time is borrowed, after all, why shouldn't it be up? His nails dig into his skin.

"Of course I don't want to die, and if anyone is going to manage to pull off a miracle it's my Magician and my Knight. But I've been staring down that reality since I was ten, Parrish. Maybe it's a relief to have a timeline, even if I don't particularly like it and you're refusing to even entertain the idea. Maybe this just isn't the kind of secret you keep to yourself, because what happens if you're wrong? How do you live with yourself if I die?"