There's a metaphor here, Ronan knows, and he isn't if he appreciates it.
But there's something in her tone that almost sounds like a challenge and Ronan's never been one to back down from that. So, glaring at her, he pulls in a breath and forces himself to focus. He's not as good at this as he is actually dreaming, not as good as Kavinsky, though he never comes away with his fingers dripping in black.
There's a tug in his chest, in his gut and he breathes through it, finds what he's looking for, and... asks.
When he opens his eyes, the guitar is as whole as when Blue had first arrived and there's an inlay of blue and green twining ivy around the sound hole.
"You're not getting a song," he says, but he holds out the guitar, offering. "Do you play?"
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Date: 2015-12-18 04:03 pm (UTC)But there's something in her tone that almost sounds like a challenge and Ronan's never been one to back down from that. So, glaring at her, he pulls in a breath and forces himself to focus. He's not as good at this as he is actually dreaming, not as good as Kavinsky, though he never comes away with his fingers dripping in black.
There's a tug in his chest, in his gut and he breathes through it, finds what he's looking for, and... asks.
When he opens his eyes, the guitar is as whole as when Blue had first arrived and there's an inlay of blue and green twining ivy around the sound hole.
"You're not getting a song," he says, but he holds out the guitar, offering. "Do you play?"