the raven cycle

In that moment, Blue was a little in love with all of them. Their magic. Their quest. Their awfulness and strangeness. Her raven boys.

𝘙𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘯, whispered the trees. 𝘙𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘯 𝘓𝘺𝘯𝘤𝘩. "It’s you,” Gansey said with wonder, his skin creeping. “Ronan Lynch. They said your name. It’s 𝘺𝘰𝘶 they’re happy to see again.”

“You’re as bad as Gansey,” Adam said, but he didn’t sound as if he thought that was very bad at all.

ok yea.

There was humiliation in his voice when Noah answered, “We were friends.” Adam said, rather more ferocious than he’d been a moment before, “A friend wouldn’t kill you.”

A few yards in, Kavinsky stopped. He looked at Ronan. “I know what you are.” It was like after the crash. After waking from a dream. Ronan was frozen in the sea, staring back at him.

His head rested miserably on Ronan’s shoulder, everything shaking, standing only because Ronan did not allow him to sink.

He’d never escape, not really. Too much monster blood in him. He’d left the den, but his breeding betrayed him.

Gansey without Adam — Blue wasn’t certain how this would work.

“The question is: 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. You had to 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘺 𝘮𝘦 to go. It’s like you’re so keen on being Adam Parrish, army of one.” He 𝘸𝘢𝘴 Adam Parrish, army of one. Gansey, raised by these adoring courtiers, would never be able to understand that.

Inside, a woman’s scrawl had transcribed a message: 𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭. — 𝘈𝘥𝘢𝘮   Now the tiny bunch of flowers made sense. They matched Adam’s frayed sweater.

His heart was still feathered inside him. In a much smaller voice, he said, “I didn’t want him to throw it all away because his father died. He doesn’t want it now, but I wanted him to have it later, when he realized he did.”

He wondered if Kavinsky was gay. He wondered if he should go to the Fourth of July party. He wondered where Adam had gone.

Just then, in that moment, the thought of Gansey leaving for D.C. without him was unbearable. They had been a two-headed creature for so long, Ronan-and-Gansey.

In the suburbs, fireworks were bought and dreamt. Doors were locked and, later, busted open. At 300 Fox Way, Adam quietly turned eighteen.

"American politics! More dangerous than a ley line.”

“Lynch,” Gansey said. “We’re gone.” “That’s right,” Kavinsky called after Ronan. “Call your dog!” He said it like either Ronan or Gansey should be offended by it.

“Well,” she remarked. “Trouble looks good today.” This was because Adam Parrish was waiting on their front step.

It was nothing, but it was Adam Parrish’s nothing.

Blue took Gansey’s hand. Adam was glad she did. “Gross,” Ronan said, which was the most juvenile response possible.

He said, “Do I kill you or let you go?” “Please —” The Gray Man shook his head. “It was a rhetorical question.”