tweeting lines from the Dreamer Trilogy by Maggie Stiefvater
wherever adam parrish is
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It was a sharp October, a wild October, one of those fretful spans of time that climbs into your skin and flits around. It was two months after the fall semester had begun.
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𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶.
He would not let the nightwash take him and Matthew.
He would not let this world kill him slowly.
He deserved a place here, too.
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"You want one of these?” Gansey asked. He gestured with his chin to indicate it. The all of it. The wedding.
“Yeah,” said Ronan. “I think so.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Gansey said.
“How do you figure?”
“I asked Adam and he said the same thing.”
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Ronan knew all the Harvard statistics. After Adam had been accepted, he’d spent evening after evening at the Barns pulling apart every detail and fact he could find about the school.
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“Look,” said Adam, “Ronan chose his side. It wasn’t me.”
This struck Ronan as profoundly unfair. The world had chosen for him. The black smudge all over Declan’s sleeve was proof of it. Left to his own devices, Ronan had chosen Adam, he was sure he’d chosen Adam.
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Declan said, “They make me want to goddamn cry.”
Ronan had never seen his older brother goddamn cry and could not remotely begin to picture it.
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Declan had complicated feelings on the topic of Adam Parrish. There was no way Declan would ever tell a significant other the truth of the Lynch family; it was too dangerous for someone disposable to know.
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Adam said, “Shh shh shh.”
But he wasn’t talking to Ronan. He was slowly peeling his jacket open to remove a ragged black bundle.
“You’ll hurt yourself,” Adam said, then swore. The bundle had bitten him.
It was Chainsaw.
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Ronan said, “Mom would’ve wanted you to do a good job.”
For a brief moment a cloud passed over Matthew’s expression. Ronan was allowed to invoke Aurora because they all knew Ronan loved her as much as Matthew had.
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They hugged, hard. It was shocking to hold him. The truth of him was right there beneath Ronan’s hands, and it still seemed impossible.
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𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 was as Ronan remembered it. Adam’s ribs fit against his ribs just as they had before. His arms wrapped around Adam’s narrow frame the same way they had before. His hand still pressed against the back of Ronan’s skull the way it always did when they hugged.
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“I heard,” she announced, “you’re the son of the Devil.”
Declan Lynch did not turn his head as she approached, but she saw his mouth tense in a suppressed smile. He said, “That’s true.”
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He was in love with Ronan, and he was in love with this lonesome green valley, and although he could not work out how either dovetailed with his addiction to the future, for the summer, he put his reservations away.
He just lived in the moment with Ronan instead.
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Then he did close his eyes and he 𝘥𝘪𝘥 cry for a little. Not much in the way of tears, just the terrible, jagged sound one’s breath makes when crying. Eventually, he stopped, and he sat there for a few long minutes, worrying his fingers over his deaf ear again and again.
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The farm he adored wasn’t enough for him. His brothers weren’t enough for him. Adam wasn’t really enough for him, either, but Declan knew he hadn’t gotten that far yet.
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