[Didn't it matter, though? It mattered when people were the ones burning, when it was the two of them instead of the flames around them. God, Ronan was something else. Every urge Kavinsky'd had to punch him upon first seeing him was long gone by now. Even if, at some point, Ronan remembered rejecting him, he was still something else. He was lovely and savage and handsome, all things Kavinsky would never say out loud except maybe the last one, but not with that exact word.
He thought about his words carefully before he said anything, but they still sounded cheesy to him.]
What if it's me burning for you?
[It was cheesy, wasn't it? But it was true, and he was only slightly afraid of his feelings, afraid that he'd be rejected again. He just wanted so desperately and he'd never been turned down before Ronan. Maybe even this was too much too fast though. He didn't know. For him, he'd already sat on Ronan's secret and his own attraction for months and months.]
Forget about it.
[He added with a breathless laugh and a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He formed his own molotov in hand, hurling it into the car Ronan had already set on fire, as if it needed more fuel to burn. The crackle of the fire made him feel alive, peaking his adrenaline, and with anyone else he would have been more reckless, impatient, but he kept telling himself to take things slow.]
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He thought about his words carefully before he said anything, but they still sounded cheesy to him.]
What if it's me burning for you?
[It was cheesy, wasn't it? But it was true, and he was only slightly afraid of his feelings, afraid that he'd be rejected again. He just wanted so desperately and he'd never been turned down before Ronan. Maybe even this was too much too fast though. He didn't know. For him, he'd already sat on Ronan's secret and his own attraction for months and months.]
Forget about it.
[He added with a breathless laugh and a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He formed his own molotov in hand, hurling it into the car Ronan had already set on fire, as if it needed more fuel to burn. The crackle of the fire made him feel alive, peaking his adrenaline, and with anyone else he would have been more reckless, impatient, but he kept telling himself to take things slow.]