[ Wandering through the forest used to be Ronan's favorite thing - walking for hours through Cabeswater while no time at all passed outside, jumping from one season to the next, talking to trees.
But here, it's oppressive; like there's violence waiting in these woods, and Ronan straightens himself up, waits for it to come at him with his fists closed and his muscles tense.
He doesn't expect to stumble upon a bed. A massive, ridiculously opulent bed, the kind Ronan hates and would never accept in his own space. The kind that looks to be taken straight from a dream. Ronan stops.
Sitting by it, is Niall Lynch. Ronan's heart stops.
Not even Cabeswater had been this cruel, to show him images of his father. Ronan tilts his head up, lips parted open as he looks at the canopy, and grunts: ]
Fuck you. Fuck you!
[ The second is louder, but Ronan doesn't care. He wants the vision to disappear, closes his eyes to it. His father is dead. He went too far, crossed too many people, and Ronan had seen his body, lifeless, bloody, distorted and disjointed and disgusting. He can see it now, the image burning in his eyes. This has to be an hallucination. Maybe he's just too dehydrated, or suffering from heatstroke.
He falls to his knees, pushing his fists into his eyes to keep from crying as he lets out a muffled, anguished noise. ]
forest
But here, it's oppressive; like there's violence waiting in these woods, and Ronan straightens himself up, waits for it to come at him with his fists closed and his muscles tense.
He doesn't expect to stumble upon a bed. A massive, ridiculously opulent bed, the kind Ronan hates and would never accept in his own space. The kind that looks to be taken straight from a dream. Ronan stops.
Sitting by it, is Niall Lynch. Ronan's heart stops.
Not even Cabeswater had been this cruel, to show him images of his father. Ronan tilts his head up, lips parted open as he looks at the canopy, and grunts: ]
Fuck you. Fuck you!
[ The second is louder, but Ronan doesn't care. He wants the vision to disappear, closes his eyes to it. His father is dead. He went too far, crossed too many people, and Ronan had seen his body, lifeless, bloody, distorted and disjointed and disgusting. He can see it now, the image burning in his eyes. This has to be an hallucination. Maybe he's just too dehydrated, or suffering from heatstroke.
He falls to his knees, pushing his fists into his eyes to keep from crying as he lets out a muffled, anguished noise. ]