Chapter Text
It was a particularly quiet night at 300 Fox Way. There was no wind to howl through the rafters or whistle gently around poorly installed window frames, and no cars dared cruise around Henrietta at 4am, not even the most brazen of raven boys.
Blue padded delicately, soundlessly, down the corridor to the Phone/Sewing/Cat Room, and hit the redial button on the deep blue phone. Gansey picked up immediately.
"Pick me up," she whispered. There was a murmur so quiet she couldn't be quite sure she hadn't imagined it, and the soft click as he hung up. Then, she waited.
It took approximately 3 and a half minutes for the Camaro to come growling round the corner, and Blue was already waiting outside. She'd pulled on a long, tattered hoodie-dress over her striped pajama bottoms and tshirt, but she was shivering as she climbed in the passenger seat. They pulled away, disappearing into the obsidian folds of the night.
Neither of them said a word until the Pig had been pulled over and turned off. Then Gansey turned in his seat.
"Jane," he whispered.
She was overwhelmed by the simplicity of his outfit. She'd expected some extravagant silk pajamas of sorts, or perhaps a toned down version of his every day clothes - not a tired black tee and worn checkered pajamas bottoms. His hair was tangled, his chin unshaven. This wasn't Richard Gansey III, friend to all, Prince of Aglionby, Raven King. This was Gansey, curator of the tiny cardboard town, chewer of mint leaves, owner of sunshine yellow sweaters. The desolate moonlight shone on his cheekbones, his nose, his eyes, taunting her. She reached for his hands, tracing each beautiful, impossible vein from his palm to his fingertips. He squirmed under her icy fingertips and she giggled, allowing herself another glance at those gorgeous eyes, anxious, brimming with endless possibilities. He smiled, and lifted his hand up to brush her cheekbone. "Chin up," he whispered, his mouth brushing her jaw, her cheek, her nose. She pulled on his shirt, demanding him closer.
"My turn," she implored, bringing her lips to meet his in an explosion of light, of love and wonder and excitement and all those endless, endless possibilities. His hands ran through her hair and down her neck, gentle, as his tongue explored her mouth.
"God, I love you," he whispered and her heart flipped, somersaulted, tucked and leaped and darted.
"I love you too," she promised as the first murmur of dawn shimmered through the valley.