"Christ." Ronan judged Gael over her insistence to carry a knife with her everywhere, correction her insistence on carrying a knife and getting caught with it. The Irishman that didn't leave home without his favorite pistol, couldn't really judge too hard could he? "We gotta ta work on yer resistance."
"Or we shouldn't..." The Murphy mumbled under his breath after Gael politely demanded she be allowed to change clothes. Without shame, Ronan knew why he didn't want Reverie to change out her uniform and he blamed his terrible, Irish boarding school.
When Mars thought about Gael's last inquiry, all of this thoughts twisted into some sort of knot... Celtic in variety. "Not at all in the mood for food," Ronan confessed. "Balancing my need ta be alone with you and my need ta have fresh air and sunlight." He chuckled and tightened his grip on Gael, while the pair lazily walked from Professor Ice Cream's classroom toward the garage.
Being a Saturday, the garage wasn't empty, so when Ronan shoved Gael in the direction of his car he did so with eyes that told her to obey. Mars strolled causally toward Scott, who was doing something grease monkey-ish. "Busted Gael out of Bobby's demented Saturday school," Ronan said in lieu of a proper greeting. "I'll talk ta her about knife safety," he added. Not that she'd been the first mutant at the school who'd had trouble adjusting to a mostly-safe environment. "I promised her I'd take her out when I got back." Ronan explained, "But if ye really need her ta stay, she can go next Saturday." Mars offered, then quickly pulled away from the completely normal interaction. "You're wearin' dad jeans." He threw in at the last minute because it couldn't be too pleasant.
When Ronan appeared next to his car, he was relieved to see Gael had sat in the passenger seat. Though, he did recall locking the car. No matter. Mars entered the vehicle, started it, and quickly left the building behind. "Where do ye want ta go?" Ronan did the unwise thing and give Gael a vote, with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on her - right about where the top of her stocking met her thigh. The move from the gear shift to the girl had been a natural one, which made Ronan nervous but left him excited. "Don't say the carriage house," he warned. "I said the carriage house." He smirked. The Irishman wrestled with the fact that he had so much to say to Gael but also had nothing to say to her. Whatever they'd become, they'd become. Maybe he only had one question for the Irish lass, it was just a matter of figuring out how to ask it.