Gansey had questioned him. Multiple times. Ronan never really gave him an answer. He was good at that. Noah was the opposite of Gansey. He'd appear in the seat beside Ronan, laughing and howling as the world whipped by them. He never had to wonder because he understood. Blue would just shake her head. She didn't get it, but, unlike Gansey, she knew there was no point in trying to figure him out. Adam had only asked once.
They were at St. Agnes. Adam had just set down his history textbook and was crawling into bed. Ronan was still sprawled out on the floor, music blaring through his headphones.
"Ronan?" Adam had whispered. Ronan shifted to look at him. Adam was laying down, staring at him, dusty hair almost falling into his eyes. Ronan didn't say anything. "Why do you let it consume you? Your anger, your fire. Why don't you try to stop it?" Adam blinked and rolled onto his back. "All you ever do is fuel it. Racing cars, hanging out with Kavinsky, drinking."
Ronan considered his response. Fuck off. Wouldn't you like to know. Because I feel like it. None of your business. What the fuck, Parrish? I didn't know you were a philosopher. Adam sighed.
"You don't have to answer me." Ronan snorted.
"No shit, Parrish."
They didn't say anything for a while. Adam continued to stare up at the ceiling and Ronan listened to his music. He'd never given Gansey a real answer. When he'd asked about the racing, the drinking . . . Kavinsky. Adam had mentioned fire though. Ronan knew about fire. Hell, he was practically made of fire. Fire and razor blades. He was made of danger.
"Do you know the word for when a fire starts to go out?" he asked. The question hung in the air for a moment, before Adam took in a little breath.
"Dying," he whispered, and then he rolled over. He didn't have to ask again.