May 29, 2015 12:25
It'd been a quiet week.
That wasn't a complaint. That meant he hadn't turned into some tiny version of himself, hadn't turned into an old man and hadn't had to deal with any dead relatives. Typically, quiet bored him but, sometimes, he'd take it. Chainsaw seemed content with the quiet too since she'd burrowed against the worn material of his jeans and was unusually silent.
It wouldn't take much to set her off, Ronan knew, but he'd take her quiet for now. Absently, he stroked a finger against her head, back and forth, like he'd done so many times before. The television was on but Ronan wasn't really paying that much attention to it.
Instead, he was chewing on the leather wristbands, thoughts elsewhere. Thoughts on the Pig, on Gansey, on Adam and Noah and Declan, on Matthew, and on why he continued to sit here and do nothing while his mother withered away and he was kept away from the Barns.
If he'd been at home, he'd have gone out and found booze, found trouble. Here, he was watching television with his bird. Ronan snarled and rolled his eyes. He'd need to do something about this.
And soon.
[Open]
3rd floor common room,
ronan lynch,
anders,
thorin