▼ - From Ronan. Because why the fuck not?
send ’ ▼’ to sit on him || accepting
Ronan had managed, for the first time, to wipe the grin off of his face completely. It flickered only for a moment, replaced with a brief sort of wide-eyed shock. It was a moment of weakness he almost couldn’t forgive himself for. But what other reaction was he supposed to have to Ronan’s sudden proximity, the unexpected weight pressing him into the seat? His pulse thudded in his ears, louder than the music. His breathing stopped.
And then the flicker was gone. A casual, insolent smile played about his lips yet again. He leaned back, let his hips shift slightly under the new burden, looked up at Ronan with a question in his eyes. He snaked his hands over Ronan’s hips, hooked his fingers in his belt loops. It was a casual gesture. But there was nothing casual about the way his grip tightened, prepared to either pull him closer or keep him from leaving.
❝ Gonna buy me dinner first, Lynch? ❞