Work Text:
Well. That was it.
Blue gently set her phone down and looked out the window. The sky was a perfect dusky shade of gold.
She breathed deeply, inhaling all those lovely bits of fabric runoff and dead skin cells, and imagined pelting someone with a rock. Hard.
But then, she sighed. It wasn't really anyone's fault that no one could visit her in her new apartment.
Maura was on the other side of Virginia, wading through the untamed wilderness of free college courses and senior funds, with her new partner, Grey. Calla was on a business trip somewhere in Canada, fooling around with Maura's recently unearthed ex. Everyone else was either too poor, too busy, or too bitchy to be able to visit Blue in her admittedly barebones apartment.
It wasn't exactly an apartment, if you were picky. It was the attic of an older house that had been given a lovely vomit yellow paint job in the eighties.
Blue had found a family of spiders in the bedroom on her first week living there. She'd named the biggest one Gertrude.
Gertrude did not seem pleased today. She rubbed her front legs together furiously, bent on doing away with the bottle of lemon dish soap she was perched on top of. Blue reached out a hand to brush her off, but her phone rang again.
Ganseyboy: My family has gone to Majorca for vacay LOL. Keep me company. :(.
Blue frowned, holding her phone up to her eyes. "Majorca? Why wouldn't you have tagged along?" she lamented, holding back a witch-like grin as she composed an acceptable answer (stop listening to ronan about EVERYTHING i BEG you).
Gertrude lowered herself onto the bathroom counter, skittering this way and that.
"Soon," Blue said to her.
-
Being Richard Ganesy was a lot like being a broken Roomba, except without the whirring noises. He shuttled himself sadly from room to room, bumping into sharp objects and forgetting to turn away from them.
His mother was with his father, busy neglecting her new duties, and his father was in London, busy chasing after his sister, who, in turn, was currently busy eating a gourmet parfait served in a gold filigree dish. He knew this because she had just sent the family a photo of it.
The wall was still in his face. Gansey peeled his forehead off of the paint with a mildly concerning sound effect.
He rubbed his eyes and tried for a smile. His reflection in the stone floor grinned winningly at him.
He held it for a few seconds, then left the unfortunate fellow in the glossy floor to his fate.
His phone beeped. Preparing himself for another onslaught of photos from his sister, Gansey peered at the screen.
RL
Holy shit your actually... [One Attac...]
The rest was hidden behind his password.
A moment later, Gansey read, out loud, "Holy shit you're actually alone." Below it was a screenshot of his sister's Instagram with a few very... Ronan opinions scrawled beside the recent photos.
Gansey sent back a text.
Gansey: *You're.
RL: such a dad, you are
RL: thanks dad
RL: my dad
RL: my man
RL: old man
RL: go tell blue your alone
Ronan sent this all of this very fast.
Gansey, almost unwittingly, began to text Blue, running a hand through his hair.
But should he write?
A new notification popped up at the top of his screen.
Mother: Your dad has been so...
Well. That settled it.
-
Ronan fucking hated the broom shed, so that was why he was clearing it out.
No other reason.
He wasn't gonna put effort into his relations.
Never.
That wasn't the Lynch way.
There were five different delivery workers at his front door with like, party shit. It was because variety was important for a fulfilling lifestyle, or something. He hadn't actually watched the Ted-talk that Adam had sent him.
But Ronan could definitely figure out whatever that little Mexican woman on the screen had been talking about.
He was smart 'n shit.
So it made perfect sense that his rental van was stuffed with boxes of knicknacks, and stereos, and whatever other Shed Junk that Blue would think was pretty.
It made sense that he was texting Adam, even though he had a car too. Cars were nice. They meant independence.
But carpooling was nice too. It meant having friends. N' shit.
-
Gertrude rubbed her front legs together.
The tall one was here. It had others. They were loud, loud, like the silver critters that dominated the world outside.
There was a viney one, like the Green in the little River. It stomped on the outside, eliciting a LOUD from the Tall One.
There was a golden one. It wasn't loud, but the others were quiet for it.
The last one was tired. The Tall One was louder for it, twice as loud, so the last one wouldn't have to be.
It got louder, as the silver critter opened its maw, and the Tall One brought out a new loud.
But it was a good loud.
It was a good loud.