[ In the time that it takes for Kavinsky to answer the door, Ronan's gone through about a thousand different alternatives to waiting around for him. He could leave, go back to his house and continue to drown his sorrows with whiskey until he eventually passed out. He could go find some afterhours bar and distract himself until they finally kicked him out. He could walk endless laps on the beach until exhaustion finally settled in likely sometime when the sun was finally peeking over the horizon.
Inwardly he often wonders if dreamers are even supposed to sleep at night. Or if the time when all others are off in their own dreamscapes is where they rule. It would have explained his insomnia all these years, if that were the case.
The door opens and immediately Ronan's stomach drops -- though his features stay as hardened and as sharp as ever. -- his eyes very briefly roaming over Kavinsky's frame. The darkness makes all of the hollows of his features seem even more sunken and somehow chiseled, his body pale and thin, not much more than skin, bones and sinewy muscles that are all the more accentuated by the little bit of light coming from somewhere inside of Kavinsky's house. His fingers twitch somewhere inside of his pocket, jaw briefly clenching as he tries to ignore the weird mixture of emotions turning inside of him.
He shouldn't be here, this was the last place that Ronan needed to be. But, just as it always does, history finds a way to repeat itself and there he is meeting Kavinsky in secret in the middle of the night. ]
Shut the fuck up. [ Ronan grunts out, his eyes eventually returning to Kavinsky's face. ] I couldn't sleep.
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Inwardly he often wonders if dreamers are even supposed to sleep at night. Or if the time when all others are off in their own dreamscapes is where they rule. It would have explained his insomnia all these years, if that were the case.
The door opens and immediately Ronan's stomach drops -- though his features stay as hardened and as sharp as ever. -- his eyes very briefly roaming over Kavinsky's frame. The darkness makes all of the hollows of his features seem even more sunken and somehow chiseled, his body pale and thin, not much more than skin, bones and sinewy muscles that are all the more accentuated by the little bit of light coming from somewhere inside of Kavinsky's house. His fingers twitch somewhere inside of his pocket, jaw briefly clenching as he tries to ignore the weird mixture of emotions turning inside of him.
He shouldn't be here, this was the last place that Ronan needed to be. But, just as it always does, history finds a way to repeat itself and there he is meeting Kavinsky in secret in the middle of the night. ]
Shut the fuck up. [ Ronan grunts out, his eyes eventually returning to Kavinsky's face. ] I couldn't sleep.