Gabriel's knees are always (skinned) wrote in rooms,
Re: Dallas/Ronan
[It's the sound, abrasive and gritty and fit to scrape him raw as the woman's thoughts and her unspoken snarls alike penetrate the soft exterior of Ronan's eardrums. Or, his brain? He hears the words as much as he feels them, that's the point.] What? No. That's not the point, is it?
[It isn't. And with every jerk of her hands on the wheel, he's sent sliding up against the passenger door or the centre console of the vehicle. And the sucker behind them who just happens to be yelling and waving his fist, those words flicker against the interior of his skull and he makes a face, reaching up to press his fingertips against each temple. What follows is an exchange of silent name-calling, and it makes his head throb in his hands. It is violent and exquisite pain in the same breath, because it pulls him out of his own distraction.]