There's something very Gansey about the way he winces, the way he knows all about Ronan and what was going on in his head to react that way. And it means something, regretting being in some sort of way the cause of that, but it also firmly reminds Blue that there's no way he can prevent it happening again.
He picks his hand back up and she looks back at the dishes. She's rinsed this plate a lot. It's about as clean as a plate is going to get, and she sets it down in the rack and turns back toward him.
Then he starts talking, and nothing makes sense. "August?" she echoes dumbly, and he goes on. But August is impossible. August puts him at -- almost -- the same time as her, here, now, only she was there (is there, will be there) for them.
He goes on, and all that information at once hits like a punch in the chest. No: a mortar, exploding through the center of a building and out the other side, leaving the outer walls intact, but ready to collapse at a breath.
It's so much: you kissed me/you killed me/Ronan was dying/I died for Ronan/You killed me to save Ronan/I was remade/I am actually your true love/You mean enough to Cabeswater to beseech it?/Cabeswater can recreate me/I am not the same/We are not the same.
Nothing is the same.
Blue's eyes are stinging, and when she blinks tears don't spill but they sit on her eyelashes anyway. She puts her fingers to her lips. As though it's her who kissed Gansey, who killed him, and it was, somewhere, somewhen, but not here.
She pitches herself forward and throws her arms around his neck, pressing her head down against his shoulder. This should be everything, it should be amazing, and relieving and -- it is, but everything should be perfect now, and instead she feels like she's going to shake apart.
He smells like mint. He still smells like mint.
"This is just so much. It's so much," she says. "I don't want you to think -- that I'm not happy to see you, it's like it's not even real, it's not that --"
But it doesn't matter, really, how glad she is for him to be back, because he was never gone. She holds onto him for a long moment and lets go, stepping back, face wet.
"I just don't know how to do this." He doesn't know -- he doesn't know so much. Silent Darrow, the cat cafe, the disappearances, KIRIN -- any of it. She doesn't know why Ronan was dying or what happened in the last year or what kissing him feels like. And she'd thought he was gone forever. The part of her that's been wondering what it's like to not be destined for someone, to not have every move preconceived, has imagined unplanned unfated kisses, has never been around Gansey before and it feels like a traitor.
no subject
He picks his hand back up and she looks back at the dishes. She's rinsed this plate a lot. It's about as clean as a plate is going to get, and she sets it down in the rack and turns back toward him.
Then he starts talking, and nothing makes sense. "August?" she echoes dumbly, and he goes on. But August is impossible. August puts him at -- almost -- the same time as her, here, now, only she was there (is there, will be there) for them.
He goes on, and all that information at once hits like a punch in the chest. No: a mortar, exploding through the center of a building and out the other side, leaving the outer walls intact, but ready to collapse at a breath.
It's so much: you kissed me/you killed me/Ronan was dying/I died for Ronan/You killed me to save Ronan/I was remade/I am actually your true love/You mean enough to Cabeswater to beseech it?/Cabeswater can recreate me/I am not the same/We are not the same.
Nothing is the same.
Blue's eyes are stinging, and when she blinks tears don't spill but they sit on her eyelashes anyway. She puts her fingers to her lips. As though it's her who kissed Gansey, who killed him, and it was, somewhere, somewhen, but not here.
She pitches herself forward and throws her arms around his neck, pressing her head down against his shoulder. This should be everything, it should be amazing, and relieving and -- it is, but everything should be perfect now, and instead she feels like she's going to shake apart.
He smells like mint. He still smells like mint.
"This is just so much. It's so much," she says. "I don't want you to think -- that I'm not happy to see you, it's like it's not even real, it's not that --"
But it doesn't matter, really, how glad she is for him to be back, because he was never gone. She holds onto him for a long moment and lets go, stepping back, face wet.
"I just don't know how to do this." He doesn't know -- he doesn't know so much. Silent Darrow, the cat cafe, the disappearances, KIRIN -- any of it. She doesn't know why Ronan was dying or what happened in the last year or what kissing him feels like. And she'd thought he was gone forever. The part of her that's been wondering what it's like to not be destined for someone, to not have every move preconceived, has imagined unplanned unfated kisses, has never been around Gansey before and it feels like a traitor.
"I don't know how to be the Blue you know."