[He smiles, a little bit impish as he asks the question, although it's rhetorical more than anything. Something just a touch wicked as he looks at the other boy. He likes this, the idea of being together in this. Feeling like he wasn't alone, that they could be close, that maybe he could hold his hand when they woke up, too. How Ronan would handle the fact that he wanted this feeling to be more than dreams was anyone's guess, mercurial creature that he was.
One way or another they'd make this work, he was sure. A space that they could make their own, shape it to what they wanted. Much like Kavinsky, Ronan had grown up in a certain sort of luxury, but it was the dreams- the dreaming- that ruined him for the rest of the world.]
Yeah. I guess we can't stay here forever.
[He leans in, takes a breath, one last slide of his fingers against the other boy's hand. He thinks of the leather bracelets on his wrist, the weight of them like a memory. In truth the idea of waking without them would be stranger, but he wanted to do this right. No mistakes, nothing else but the leather bands. He knows what he wants, at least in this moment, and he hopes that's enough.
Dreaming like this is a balancing act; awake enough to know he's dreaming, but not so awake that it pulls him out of the dream. It doesn't take too much effort to cross the distance, pulling himself back into reality. Even if part of him still wants to stay.
Leather bands on his wrist as perfect as a memory. No horrors or molotovs. There were a few errant blue petals on the back of his hand. Not perfect, but for the first time he'd brought back something because he wanted it and that felt like magic.]
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[He smiles, a little bit impish as he asks the question, although it's rhetorical more than anything. Something just a touch wicked as he looks at the other boy. He likes this, the idea of being together in this. Feeling like he wasn't alone, that they could be close, that maybe he could hold his hand when they woke up, too. How Ronan would handle the fact that he wanted this feeling to be more than dreams was anyone's guess, mercurial creature that he was.
One way or another they'd make this work, he was sure. A space that they could make their own, shape it to what they wanted. Much like Kavinsky, Ronan had grown up in a certain sort of luxury, but it was the dreams- the dreaming- that ruined him for the rest of the world.]
Yeah. I guess we can't stay here forever.
[He leans in, takes a breath, one last slide of his fingers against the other boy's hand. He thinks of the leather bracelets on his wrist, the weight of them like a memory. In truth the idea of waking without them would be stranger, but he wanted to do this right. No mistakes, nothing else but the leather bands. He knows what he wants, at least in this moment, and he hopes that's enough.
Dreaming like this is a balancing act; awake enough to know he's dreaming, but not so awake that it pulls him out of the dream. It doesn't take too much effort to cross the distance, pulling himself back into reality. Even if part of him still wants to stay.
Leather bands on his wrist as perfect as a memory. No horrors or molotovs. There were a few errant blue petals on the back of his hand. Not perfect, but for the first time he'd brought back something because he wanted it and that felt like magic.]