Gansey closes his eyes, forehead pressed to Adam's, breaths coming out in a small puffs of condensation while they settle here in the midst of the chilly winter trees, in Cabeswater, and hears Adam's words echo right into his bones.
If.
There is no if. It's absolutely a matter of when, and Gansey thinks he's known that now for a while. Maybe for longer than he's actually been fully aware of, all the way to the very moment he'd been brought back to life.
Someone else on the ley line is dying when they should not, and so you will live when you should not.
(-- but for how long? And why? Why him? Why save him?)
Gansey doesn't believe in coincidences; he doesn't believe it was a simple matter of timing and place.
But what is the point of it, the use of it, when in the end, he knows that he's running on borrowed time, a time he really owes Noah, because it's his life he'd traded for that night?
He can feel his throat growing thick with the pain of wanting to cry and trying his very best to remain the stable, solid presence Adam needs, fingers grasping for the other boy's, to take them in his and give them a gentle squeeze.
He's afraid. Of course he's afraid. He'd been on this quest for nearly seven years now and he can taste the conclusion on his tongue, bittersweet, especially knowing how much he might be forced to leave behind.
He might find Glendower, but at what cost? ]
It's all right. [ It's not, and the words feel empty and unfeeling in his mouth. Does he sound convincing? Probably not. He can't even convince himself right now, even if the thought is so terrible, so selfish. Is it bad that all he wants right now is to run away, somehow? Take Adam and run.
(But where? You can't outrun your fate.)
His voice is quiet, trembling too. ] We still have time.
i am so emotional over this god
Gansey closes his eyes, forehead pressed to Adam's, breaths coming out in a small puffs of condensation while they settle here in the midst of the chilly winter trees, in Cabeswater, and hears Adam's words echo right into his bones.
If.
There is no if. It's absolutely a matter of when, and Gansey thinks he's known that now for a while. Maybe for longer than he's actually been fully aware of, all the way to the very moment he'd been brought back to life.
Someone else on the ley line is dying when they should not, and so you will live when you should not.
(-- but for how long? And why? Why him? Why save him?)
Gansey doesn't believe in coincidences; he doesn't believe it was a simple matter of timing and place.
But what is the point of it, the use of it, when in the end, he knows that he's running on borrowed time, a time he really owes Noah, because it's his life he'd traded for that night?
He can feel his throat growing thick with the pain of wanting to cry and trying his very best to remain the stable, solid presence Adam needs, fingers grasping for the other boy's, to take them in his and give them a gentle squeeze.
He's afraid. Of course he's afraid. He'd been on this quest for nearly seven years now and he can taste the conclusion on his tongue, bittersweet, especially knowing how much he might be forced to leave behind.
He might find Glendower, but at what cost? ]
It's all right. [ It's not, and the words feel empty and unfeeling in his mouth. Does he sound convincing? Probably not. He can't even convince himself right now, even if the thought is so terrible, so selfish. Is it bad that all he wants right now is to run away, somehow? Take Adam and run.
(But where? You can't outrun your fate.)
His voice is quiet, trembling too. ] We still have time.