[Ronan wasn't blind to the parallel, to the fact that he had thorns too, that he tended to bite as well, when Kavinsky wasn't careful. He loved the flowers anyway, though. More than himself, it reminded him of the other dreamer, of the fact that he cared enough, thought of Ronan like this to dream them for him.]
Well, I guess they can have that for a little while, anyway.
[He grins, a little bit wicked at Kavinsky's teasing about his friends. He hums softly as the other boy leans in and kisses him on the cheek, a soft affection about him for a moment that he doesn't give to most people. He pauses for just a moment, almost wants to stop and kiss him properly- but he doesn't want to risk what might happen to the rose blooms.
So he leads Kavinsky into the house, a crooked sort of smile as he opens the door and steps inside. It's clearly the place where Ronan grew up, but it also clearly is the house of a dreamer. It's luxury but with a worn sort of comfort to it, the sort of place to grow up with brothers and a dreamt fairy-bride mother. Ronan didn't know how to bare his heart in words, but as far as gestures went, this was pretty close.]
My room is just down the hall.
[There was a weight to this place, somehow-- that even empty of his parents and brothers, there was something about the Barns that was like another piece of his childhood. They did not talk about the dreams, and yet they were hidden in plain sight; so ubiquitous that Ronan hadn't known the difference. Or maybe it was just that he'd always been a bit oblivious.]
no subject
Well, I guess they can have that for a little while, anyway.
[He grins, a little bit wicked at Kavinsky's teasing about his friends. He hums softly as the other boy leans in and kisses him on the cheek, a soft affection about him for a moment that he doesn't give to most people. He pauses for just a moment, almost wants to stop and kiss him properly- but he doesn't want to risk what might happen to the rose blooms.
So he leads Kavinsky into the house, a crooked sort of smile as he opens the door and steps inside. It's clearly the place where Ronan grew up, but it also clearly is the house of a dreamer. It's luxury but with a worn sort of comfort to it, the sort of place to grow up with brothers and a dreamt fairy-bride mother. Ronan didn't know how to bare his heart in words, but as far as gestures went, this was pretty close.]
My room is just down the hall.
[There was a weight to this place, somehow-- that even empty of his parents and brothers, there was something about the Barns that was like another piece of his childhood. They did not talk about the dreams, and yet they were hidden in plain sight; so ubiquitous that Ronan hadn't known the difference. Or maybe it was just that he'd always been a bit oblivious.]