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.
[ he drops his head to gansey's shoulder, trying not to sound too hysterical as he laughs. we sill have time. no, that's the problem. they're running out of time. they hardly have any time left, but of course it's gansey who looks at it like they still do. ever the optimist, where adam is ever the pessimist. he wishes he could look at the world and believe there was still hope -- and maybe there would be, if gansey's death didn't already feel so finalized. ]
Yeah, time. [ he laughs again, raising his head to look out over cabeswater, the only place where they really do have all the time in the world. ] We could stay here and nothing would ever change. I bet Ronan's mom would love the company.
[ he's talking nonsense, he knows he is. they can't stay here, not really. theoretically, they could. adam knows cabeswater better than anyone, now. he is cabeswater. he could find a place no one would ever find them and they could stay there and nothing would ever change. they might change, but cabeswater wouldn't. he knows they can't do that, though, even if it is possible. he couldn't live with himself knowing blue and ronan (even noah, probably) would be out there never knowing what really happened. he can't just abandon them, even if it means letting gansey die. watching him die. not being able to save him. having his heart shatter into a million pieces because gansey is the one person who means everything to him. ]
[ sometimes, he wishes it could have been blue. that way, he could have saved himself an extra ounce of pain and watching gansey die would be more like getting punched in the gut than someone ripping your chest open with their bare hands. but it was never blue, even then. it's always been gansey, and it always will be. and that's the worst part, really -- that he can't just stop feeling. one look at gansey is all it takes to send him reeling all over again; one kiss and adam melts like warm butter; one touch and his heart flutters. it's never enough, and now it never will be. he wants to believe it's going to be alright, in the end, but that would just be setting himself up for more misery than it already will be. ]
[ he turns back to gansey, really looks at him. he's already memorized every part of him, but a memory is never quite the same as the real thing. and, for a moment, he just wants to look, while he still has time. ] What are you thinking? [ it's impossible to know with gansey. even after all this time, he's never been very good at reading him. ]
[ Gansey tilts his head towards Adam's face, leans in to press his mouth against the line of his jaw for no real reason other than he could. He shifts again to kiss him properly this time, lips finding Adam's.
If he gives into his fears and the pessimism that threatens to drown him at every moment he isn't battling against it with a relentless optimism, then he wants to kiss Adam as much as he can, for as long as he can, until he quite literally can't do it anymore.
It's terrifying to know just when it is you're going to die. These days, Gansey finds himself preparing without meaning to as if that will make it better - the leaving. But this isn't a quick trip to England. This is forever.
Historically, Gansey hates goodbyes; he's not very good at them. When he discovered Henrietta's connection to the ley lines, he'd left London - and Malory - without a word or a note. He regrets it and he promised he would never leave like that again, but now with the end too near, he finds he wants to leave and spare the pain of a goodbye.
He could never do it though. Malory isn't what Adam and Ronan and Blue and Noah are. No one could be what Adam is to him. Adam is everything. The most fucked up thing he could think to do is to leave him without a word. He considers the mercy in that - a clean break - but in the end, Gansey's too selfish for it anyway. He could never do that to Adam and he certainly couldn't do it for himself.
A moment later, breaths shaky, Gansey pulls back. ]
I'm thinking that I don't want to be afraid. But I am.
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.
no subject
Yeah, time. [ he laughs again, raising his head to look out over cabeswater, the only place where they really do have all the time in the world. ] We could stay here and nothing would ever change. I bet Ronan's mom would love the company.
[ he's talking nonsense, he knows he is. they can't stay here, not really. theoretically, they could. adam knows cabeswater better than anyone, now. he is cabeswater. he could find a place no one would ever find them and they could stay there and nothing would ever change. they might change, but cabeswater wouldn't. he knows they can't do that, though, even if it is possible. he couldn't live with himself knowing blue and ronan (even noah, probably) would be out there never knowing what really happened. he can't just abandon them, even if it means letting gansey die. watching him die. not being able to save him. having his heart shatter into a million pieces because gansey is the one person who means everything to him. ]
[ sometimes, he wishes it could have been blue. that way, he could have saved himself an extra ounce of pain and watching gansey die would be more like getting punched in the gut than someone ripping your chest open with their bare hands. but it was never blue, even then. it's always been gansey, and it always will be. and that's the worst part, really -- that he can't just stop feeling. one look at gansey is all it takes to send him reeling all over again; one kiss and adam melts like warm butter; one touch and his heart flutters. it's never enough, and now it never will be. he wants to believe it's going to be alright, in the end, but that would just be setting himself up for more misery than it already will be. ]
[ he turns back to gansey, really looks at him. he's already memorized every part of him, but a memory is never quite the same as the real thing. and, for a moment, he just wants to look, while he still has time. ] What are you thinking? [ it's impossible to know with gansey. even after all this time, he's never been very good at reading him. ]
oKAY I'M BACK
If he gives into his fears and the pessimism that threatens to drown him at every moment he isn't battling against it with a relentless optimism, then he wants to kiss Adam as much as he can, for as long as he can, until he quite literally can't do it anymore.
It's terrifying to know just when it is you're going to die. These days, Gansey finds himself preparing without meaning to as if that will make it better - the leaving. But this isn't a quick trip to England. This is forever.
Historically, Gansey hates goodbyes; he's not very good at them. When he discovered Henrietta's connection to the ley lines, he'd left London - and Malory - without a word or a note. He regrets it and he promised he would never leave like that again, but now with the end too near, he finds he wants to leave and spare the pain of a goodbye.
He could never do it though. Malory isn't what Adam and Ronan and Blue and Noah are. No one could be what Adam is to him. Adam is everything. The most fucked up thing he could think to do is to leave him without a word. He considers the mercy in that - a clean break - but in the end, Gansey's too selfish for it anyway. He could never do that to Adam and he certainly couldn't do it for himself.
A moment later, breaths shaky, Gansey pulls back. ]
I'm thinking that I don't want to be afraid. But I am.