[Kavinsky calls him by his name- his first name- and it catches his attention, focuses him onto the other boy. He nods at the words, catches himself and tries to smooth out his thoughts and emotions into something that the dream wont pick up on. He doesn't quite apologize, but there's something a little chagrined to his expression.]
Okay.
[It's a simple acceptance, but there's something to the words. Letting himself trust the insistence that he's safe, that they can't hurt him here. That Kavinsky will keep them safe in the ways that Ronan's never been good at. It hits a chord in him, the feeling of being here, with Kavinsky offering the things he could never even allow himself to admit that he wanted.
Kavinsky is maybe the person from back home that Ronan should be most disinclined to trust, but they were both dreamers, and that made them something else. Especially in this strange place, it hard to see them as anything but together.]
I want to get better. I like dreaming most of the time, it's just--
[There's a wry curl of his mouth as he looks at the other boy. It's difficult to know what he wants, what he doesn't, and the dream doesn't always tell the difference. And then there's how fraught the dreams themselves can be, because Ronan hasn't figured out how to choose what he dreams. He's learning without a teacher, and more vulnerable to them- half a dream himself, even if he doesn't know it. He gestures with his hand, a breath that's sharp with something like dark amusement, considering what had almost just happened.]
no subject
Okay.
[It's a simple acceptance, but there's something to the words. Letting himself trust the insistence that he's safe, that they can't hurt him here. That Kavinsky will keep them safe in the ways that Ronan's never been good at. It hits a chord in him, the feeling of being here, with Kavinsky offering the things he could never even allow himself to admit that he wanted.
Kavinsky is maybe the person from back home that Ronan should be most disinclined to trust, but they were both dreamers, and that made them something else. Especially in this strange place, it hard to see them as anything but together.]
I want to get better. I like dreaming most of the time, it's just--
[There's a wry curl of his mouth as he looks at the other boy. It's difficult to know what he wants, what he doesn't, and the dream doesn't always tell the difference. And then there's how fraught the dreams themselves can be, because Ronan hasn't figured out how to choose what he dreams. He's learning without a teacher, and more vulnerable to them- half a dream himself, even if he doesn't know it. He gestures with his hand, a breath that's sharp with something like dark amusement, considering what had almost just happened.]
You know.