ronan had never seen himself as particularly forgiving.

he was angry, brutal. something on the wrong side of intense. it was just who he was, how he was molded to be and it wasn't as if he was going to change anytime soon. or so he thought.

the fourth of july party had been a mess.

matthew being taken by kavinsky, the dragon being pulled out of the dream. his own night creature being pulled out to combat said dragon - it had been destructive in the worse possible way. power on power, dreams against dreams.

what he hadn't expected though, was for you to be there.

a sweet, rather unassuming boy. someone from aglionby academy that had somehow infiltrated his friend group without them thinking too hard about it. you were… pleasant. someone that wouldn't get into trouble.

they had been aware of your affinity for kavinsky. always the martyr, trying to do whatever you could to prove to kavinsky that he was more than the drugs. more than someone who only knew destruction, but tonight your attempts had fallen short.

in the aftermath, he found you. knelt beside the lifeless body that belonged to kavinsky. soot covered features with tear streaks tracking down through the muck.

and for once? he felt bad. he felt guilty, as if he could have prevented your hurt. so he had done the only thing that he had been able to think of in the moment.

despite your protests, the way you begged him not to leave kavinsky there to rot, ronan still picked you up. lifted you into his arms as if you weighed nothing, as if you weren't really there to begin with - it was weird. the entire situation was weird.

and that was how they had gotten here. in his bedroom. watching over you as you slept.

he'd managed to coax you into showering, into getting the leftover soot and dirt off of your skin. after you had almost collapsed into his arms with exhaustion and once more he had carried you, placing you into the one spot that he could keep an eye on you.

his frame was settled beside you on the bed. your head resting against the pillow beside him. it was a sad sight, if he was being honest with himself. your eyes were puffy from crying, from the grief you had felt upon seeing someone you had grown attached to laying dead.

but there was nothing he could do. not right now.

all he could do was sit there and wait until you woke up. then he would explain everything. explain what he was - being the greywaren, the dreams - and why kavinsky had died how he had died. why it had to have happened like that.

why kavinsky hadn't been someone that anyone could save, least of all you.

it was a conversation he was dreading, but ronan knew that it was something that needed to be done. something that he couldn't dance around, even if he wanted to.