[Kavinsky pulls and Ronan follows intuitively. It still feels like being thrown into dreaming so hard he can't breathe, takes him long moments to pull himself back together, to find his feet. It feels different, being in the other boy's dream, and with them being here together it's impossible to hide the awe that he feels, the tangled and complicated feelings of how Kavinsky is just like him and he's never had that before.
The space they're in together is a derelict, run-down reflection of the derelict, run-down city they were in. But Ronan knew enough about dreams to know that what it looked like wasn't really the part that mattered. Usually, Ronan was in a forest, but he brought back all manner of things.
It's the casual way that Kavinsky shapes the sunglasses into his hand, and slides them onto the front of his shirt. And Ronan knows that they're what he'll bring back. And the truth is- he'd never considered that he got to choose, or that he could. It makes something snake through him, warm and giddy and he laughs with a slight shake of his head.]
Yeah... Yeah, I'm great.
[His voice tries to sound like he's not overwhelmed by the sheer possibility of all, like he can hide how much this all means to him, standing here with Kavinsky, closer than he's ever been to anyone. No one else really understood. He swallows and reels under the weight. Not knowing what to say, how to say any of it, and so instead it's this instead:]
Do you dream all of your shitty sunglasses?
[But he grins at K, like it's a joke they're both in on, not a rejection.]
no subject
The space they're in together is a derelict, run-down reflection of the derelict, run-down city they were in. But Ronan knew enough about dreams to know that what it looked like wasn't really the part that mattered. Usually, Ronan was in a forest, but he brought back all manner of things.
It's the casual way that Kavinsky shapes the sunglasses into his hand, and slides them onto the front of his shirt. And Ronan knows that they're what he'll bring back. And the truth is- he'd never considered that he got to choose, or that he could. It makes something snake through him, warm and giddy and he laughs with a slight shake of his head.]
Yeah... Yeah, I'm great.
[His voice tries to sound like he's not overwhelmed by the sheer possibility of all, like he can hide how much this all means to him, standing here with Kavinsky, closer than he's ever been to anyone. No one else really understood. He swallows and reels under the weight. Not knowing what to say, how to say any of it, and so instead it's this instead:]
Do you dream all of your shitty sunglasses?
[But he grins at K, like it's a joke they're both in on, not a rejection.]