[ Ronan, carefully, considers his next words. So Kavinsky hadn't lied, at least, trying to fit the story to something that made him seem less like a bad person. Maybe he still didn't give a shit about being awful.
That he thought you were his. Jesus fucking Christ. Ronan can't resist bringing his leather bracelets to his mouth and biting down, hard, for a moment. He's trying to break the habit, but it's not actually that easy. ]
Do you like him?
[ Might as well try to gauge that. If someone around here is fond of Kavinsky, while knowing that he is a kidnapper; self-absorbed and lost to drugs and his own fucking issues and utterly dangerous, well. Ronan probably wants nothing to do with them.
But then Rafa says the name. That name, that makes Ronan sit straighter, his eyes flashing with danger.
no subject
That he thought you were his. Jesus fucking Christ. Ronan can't resist bringing his leather bracelets to his mouth and biting down, hard, for a moment. He's trying to break the habit, but it's not actually that easy. ]
Do you like him?
[ Might as well try to gauge that. If someone around here is fond of Kavinsky, while knowing that he is a kidnapper; self-absorbed and lost to drugs and his own fucking issues and utterly dangerous, well. Ronan probably wants nothing to do with them.
But then Rafa says the name. That name, that makes Ronan sit straighter, his eyes flashing with danger.
Kavinsky had no fucking right. ]
What has he told you about Gansey?