[ Gansey has his eyes closed but like most nights, he doesn't sleep.
He can't.
The sound of some modern-day composer's rendition of Mozart or Bach or Haydn buzzes through tiny earbuds, meant to drown out Monmouth, Gansey's thoughts, and the heavy feeling in his chest.
He hates fighting with his friends, hates it more than anything because each fight feels like a permanent scar added to a wall of fractures that will, inevitably, leave him with a gaping hole and no one left to come home to. In the beginning, Gansey didn't think about that. He didn't think about what enrolling into Aglionby would entail and how these short few months have probably been the most meaningful in his entire life. He'd left Wales and Peru without a word. He thought he could do it again.
And now -
Now, more than ever, he doesn't think it's possible.
This is home now. It's home, because -
Gansey.
He hears his name being called, a low reverberation beneath the symphony of violins and soft piano. A hand on his shoulder, warm, gentle, almost hesitant - but with intention, too.
Immediately he shifts, turning to face his disturber if only to confirm his identity. He could differentiate Adam's touch from Ronan's or Noah's any day at any time. Each one of them, they're so particular from each other, just one part to the whole that makes up Richard Gansey III. But Adam's always been just a little something more, sometimes a mystery, sometimes an intrigue, sometimes the very thing Gansey wants more than anything to be. ]
Hey.
[ He pulls the little bits of plastic from his ears, the music immediately fading - only to be replaced by the sound of their breaths and their hearts beating.
no subject
He can't.
The sound of some modern-day composer's rendition of Mozart or Bach or Haydn buzzes through tiny earbuds, meant to drown out Monmouth, Gansey's thoughts, and the heavy feeling in his chest.
He hates fighting with his friends, hates it more than anything because each fight feels like a permanent scar added to a wall of fractures that will, inevitably, leave him with a gaping hole and no one left to come home to. In the beginning, Gansey didn't think about that. He didn't think about what enrolling into Aglionby would entail and how these short few months have probably been the most meaningful in his entire life. He'd left Wales and Peru without a word. He thought he could do it again.
And now -
Now, more than ever, he doesn't think it's possible.
This is home now. It's home, because -
Gansey.
He hears his name being called, a low reverberation beneath the symphony of violins and soft piano. A hand on his shoulder, warm, gentle, almost hesitant - but with intention, too.
Immediately he shifts, turning to face his disturber if only to confirm his identity. He could differentiate Adam's touch from Ronan's or Noah's any day at any time. Each one of them, they're so particular from each other, just one part to the whole that makes up Richard Gansey III. But Adam's always been just a little something more, sometimes a mystery, sometimes an intrigue, sometimes the very thing Gansey wants more than anything to be. ]
Hey.
[ He pulls the little bits of plastic from his ears, the music immediately fading - only to be replaced by the sound of their breaths and their hearts beating.
It's very real. ]