remember that one time jungkook was making a hand heart to the fans and he realized that all of them were supposed to meet in the middle for the chorus, so he booked it across the stage and made it just in time
Hiii the story you wrote about Andrew and Neil that I asked for awhile ago was awesome even though I know it was a hard one. I was wo dering if you can do 98 about Ronan and Adam?
(that is SWEET and also I bastardized your prompt a little >:))
98: “I want to thank you for putting up with me. I know that I’m not the easiest person to get along with.”
He’s locking up the repair shop with his arms full of backpack and keys clamped between his teeth when someone honks behind him. He startles so hard that everything landslides down onto springy wet grass.
“Sorry!” Gansey calls, head popped outside of what must be the pig, if Adam could see past the dizzy glare of the headlights. “I’m in a bit of a hurry. You’d better come sit down.”
Adam breathes deep, mentally slicing his evening into pieces like he always does when an expensive car rolls up and his name is called. He stoops over to gather the textbooks spilling out of his bag, the scatter of his few precious pens and his bike lock.
When he looks up, Gansey’s switched on his high beams to passive aggressively hurry him along. He slows down a little out of halfhearted spite.
Adam tucks his backpack through the headrests to the backseat and then leans into the front of the car to look at Gansey expectantly. He’s making a face that’s about as close to a grimace as a Gansey can get.
“Ronan ran away.”
Adam blinks. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” Gansey breathes. Adam feels his newborn worry ebb and blink out.
“Well he’s at home, then. He’s not going to run far from the Barns.”
“That’s what I’d imagined, but he’s nowhere on Lynch property. Blue and I went on a merry hunt all afternoon.”
Adam feels his chest kick and fight and try to make a scene. “And you didn’t tell me until now?” He hates that his voice sounds like the raw insides of undercooked meat, like he’s delicate and bloody.
“Well we thought it was fixable, and you were at work—“
“I’m always at work, Gansey, and it’s never deterred you before. If my— if Ronan really did disappear—“
“He did,” Gansey says emphatically, and Adam frowns.
“Knocked on my door at 6 am this morning holding this.” He produces a sheet of torn off looseleaf from his breast pocket and hands it to Adam gingerly.
Adam unfolds it.
Tell Adam I’m sorry.
He looks up, swallowing. Gansey’s watching him closely, obviously trying to gauge a response.
“At least he’s started apologizing,” he says weakly, a thin needle of hurt pinning his words together.
“It doesn’t seem like he’s starting anything,” Adam says, his anger and worry taking each other by the throat. “He’s giving up.”
“I think,” Gansey says, “that he’s very bad at grieving.”
“No one’s good at grieving. Not that you’ve ever had to know.”
Gansey recoils. He has a flighty look on his face like he would very much like to abandon this conversation if it weren’t taking place in his most prized possession. “I’m not the one that left, Adam,” he says pointedly, and Adam swears, apologizes, and climbs into the passenger seat.
“Take me to the Barns.”
Gansey looks at him sideways, and Adam would have the pity in his eyes for a punching bag. “He really isn’t there.”
“I know,” Adam says impatiently, “I’m going to steal his car.”