Gabriel's knees are always (skinned) wrote in rooms,
Re: House of Strays: Ronan/Ben
[Relief comes not in waves, but like a tsunami: swift and all-consuming as it crashes over his head and tosses him around in the eddied wake until he doesn't know which way is up and which will have him picking grit out of his teeth for weeks. But it doesn't matter, because the only thing that's kept him hurting and hollowed is that fear, that Ben might stop loving him. And despite the way Ronan's hands shake as he wraps them around his knees, pulling them up and against his chest, those words serve so well to steady him.
Ben doesn't hate him. Won't hate him, whatever he decides.
All the rest he can handle without flinching beneath the weight of words. More than that, he knows empathy enough to get it. Because if it were Ben in his position, Ronan wouldn't do nearly so well at rising above that indignant, jealous anger. So it doesn't wound him when Ben has to turn away.]
Thank you. [Ragged but soft come the words, and he means them. He's tired with every twitch of muscle and tendon, and he turns his head to lean a cheek against his knees. Sighs.] And I know. I mean, I don't know, but I can imagine it well enough and I hate that I did that to you.
[Ronan lets his eyes drift shut for a moment. He's pretty sure that Ben is correct, actually. That if their roles were reversed, there'd be nothing inside Ben's heart and his mind that the hotel could twist around into enough torment to make even his subconscious act with betrayal. Brown eyes slide open again and he blinks rapid-fire as the blush leeches out of his cheeks.]
I'll never stop being sorry for what happened, Ben. I love you, and I hurt you. It had nothing to do with you, that's all I can say. It was me and my own [...] stuff that the hotel twisted around.