we are the reckless, we are the wild youth
Blue suddenly stepped into him, surprising him enough that he rocked back into the railing. Her arms went up around him as she pressed her cheek to his neck, and any desire to move fled him as he wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her shoulder.
This was a less overwhelming version of how she had held him after their kiss, and again after Cabeswater had sacrificed itself to resurrect him.
The first thing he had been aware of was grass brushing the back of his neck. His mind had known it was grass because he could smell it surrounding him and feel the dampness of it seeping into his hair and Henry’s Algionby sweater, but his heart hadn’t been sure. In those first few moments when he had returned to his body, the blades of grass had felt like the delicate brush of hornet wings, and either fear or death had kept him paralyzed. He felt like Ronan after he brought something back from a dream. He felt like he might have been brought back from a dream.
And then, a voice in his ear, or maybe in his mind, or maybe in his memory, said, “Don’t throw it away.” It had not been a command, but a familiar plea.
And then there was another voice coming from above him, definitely in his ear this time, tone full of command and intention, saying, “Wake up.”
Blue’s voice, telling him to live. Blue, full of mirror magic, full of tree magic. Her voice on his recorder asking, Is that all?
Gansey opened his eyes. He took a breath, moved his fingers. He was not sure how he was alive, but he would earn it again, he would earn it always. He could feel that time slipping sensation again as the minute that had held him ended and the next one began.
That next minute had been full of Blue throwing herself on him, her tears hot against his cheek as she sobbed with relief. It had been Adam’s exhausted exhale and then his smile as Gansey met his eyes with wonder, Ronan’s grief-stricken face clearing as Gansey reached for him with the hand that wasn’t holding Blue to his chest, Henry’s cheer and ecstatic laughter at the impossibility of them all.
They arrived back at 300 Fox Way dirty and disheveled and kings of Henrietta.
germansingergirl
janainaart
annaxmalina
discoholicmusic
gummygunk
yousharknotpass
theartofmadeline
andulkaphoto
