This is the companion piece, I guess. Tell me what you think! Oh, and disclaimer: I don't own Raven Cycle, or the characters.
Ronan was too much. Too sharp. Too alive. Too hot to touch. Anything that got too close, burned. Scorched and damaged. That was how Ronan left them.
Ronan's fingers were tight on the steering wheel, fiery rubber beneath his flare-gun fingers. The sky was deep blue, it was black, burnt. The road stretched before him. Black, burnt, tire tracks daring Ronan to let go. To fly through his destruction. Adam was waiting at the shop. Ronan snarled, and took the branch to the right, leaving the war zone for another day. Another time, when Parrish wasn't out in the cold. Waiting for him.
Ronan wondered if Adam did it for him. Swallowed his pride for the boy with the shadow tattoos and the cut-throat smile. Hell if he knew.
Adam was there, outside the shop, head down, threadbare coat wrapped around his shoulders. It was too small. Too old. Too broken. Ronan simmered, and watched for a moment. Watched, as pit viper pride strangled the dusty haired boy. Watched, as Adam blew hot air over his hands, devoid of the gloves Ronan had offered him. Watched, as he pull the coat closer around his shoulders, still shivering at the cold.
Adam looked up and Ronan studied his eyes. They were bright. Defiant. He felt the fire burning inside him dim. His anger slowly slipping. Adam Parrish stood on his own. Ronan grinned. Cold through and through. Adam nodded, and Ronan pulled up, letting the door swing open.
Adam waited for him. Anyone else, and he'd have managed with his bike. Anyone else, and he wouldn't have had to take the ride. He was staring out the window, pride entirely intact, because he was there for Ronan. Not because Ronan wanted it. Not because Ronan wanted freckle speckled cheekbones, and calculating eyes. Adam was there to keep Ronan's too pale skin from being burnt.
Adam knew how to handle Ronan's flames. Ronan had learned to let him.
They rode to St. Agnes, silent. Ronan slammed the doors when they got there. He slammed the door to Adam's room, and Adam glared. Ronan shrugged, Adam was half-deaf anyway, so what did it matter? He tossed himself to the floor, and gazed at the ceiling, wishing for spinning tires, and screeches across the blacktop. Danger and fire.
"Stay?" Adam would ask. Ronan would stare at the ceiling, and Adam would get into bed. Waiting for the door to slam. When it didn't, he would let go of the breath he'd been holding and fall asleep. He did it for Ronan.
Ronan waited for Adam to be asleep. He peeled himself off the floor and acted like he was still on fire. Like he was dangerous. He leaned over the bed. "I love you," he whispered into Adam's bad ear. Maybe he was dangerous. Maybe Adam didn't care. Maybe he wouldn't let Ronan buy him a new coat because Ronan was too hot to touch, and so he waited. Waited outside the shop, letting the cold into his bones, so when Ronan got there, he could cool him off, and they would be able to keep each other safe.
Ronan grinned and leaned back against the bed. Maybe he waited because he thought Ronan was hot.