Chapter Text
Ronan was all sharp edges. Static. The hiss of the “s” in snake. A blade, its dull gleam echoed in his eyes. Everything about him whispered a warning. Bold. Dangerous.
Adam was all caution. Hard work. The feeling of the word exhausted with all the trappings of the word dream. Soft south and long summers tangled in brown hair the colour of freshly overturned dirt.
The first time Adam saw Ronan, really saw Ronan, he thought of sleek cars and smudges of ink; biting winter days and guns.
The first time Ronan saw Adam, really saw Adam, he thought of home and spring wrapped in green grass; the curve of a jawline and sunrise.
Adam hated the morning shift. Too many of his classmates from Aglionby University parading through the line, ordering the most complicated drinks and complaining when it took too long. Blue was usually helping him. Or David or Liss or Lisbet. But David was sick and Lisbet was taking care of him and Liss was out of town and Blue was late. Adam was struggling, so when Gansey stepped up to make his order, Adam didn’t even notice it was him.
“Parrish,” he said. Adam paused. Took a second to stare at Gansey’s ardently pink polo and began to tap Gansey’s usual order into the computer.
“Gansey,” Adam replied with a smile like a camera flash.
Adam and Gansey’s friendship had begun with Gansey’s car breaking down. Adam was only a block from his apartment, on his way to a nine a.m. class when he noticed the boy in the lime-green shirt and expensive khakis, standing hopelessly next to a car that was nearly up on the sidewalk.
Relief had crossed Gansey’s face when he’d seen Adam. His grin had been as bright as
the sun glinting off the skyscrapers. Adam had been surprised. Of course, he knew Richard Gansey III, the son of a Congresswoman and a retired Congressman. And he knew Richard Gansey III’s car, But why did Richard Gansey III say his name with an undercurrent of happiness.
“Adam Parrish, right?” he had said, the smile still in place.
Adam had nodded.
“Richard Gansey,” Gansey confirmed.
“I know,” Adam said.
Gansey laughed, carefree and genuine. “I suppose you would…. Hey, do you know anything about cars? The Pig,” he said, referring to the obnoxiously orange Camaro, “just died again, and the tow truck can’t get here for an hour.”
Adam considered saying no. Felt his whole body quiver with the prospect. Saying no. Walking away and slipping back into the unnoticed at Aglionby. Surely it was better that way.
But he had said yes. And once he’d fixed the Camaro- temporarily- Gansey had offered a ride. Adam couldn’t say no, he didn’t want Gansey to be stranded again. Not that anyone was truly stranded in New York City, but still.
Also, if he hadn’t taken the ride, he would have been ten minutes late for class, and Adam was never late.
That had been a week ago.
Since then, Gansey had included Adam in his lifetime research project: amassing all the information about Glendower- an old Welsh king- that had ever existed.
But having Gansey right there, right now, in the middle of the seven a.m. rush, standing, ordering his latte with another Raven Boy by his side was making Adam’s newfound like of Gansey diminish a little bit.
“I thought you preferred Starbucks,” Adam heard himself say to Gansey.
“Usually,” Gansey conceded. “But I found something new. I could use your input. We’ll be over by the window. Thanks.” And Gansey smiled, the other Aglionby boy just a quick blip on Adam’s radar as Gansey shoved a five in the tip jar. Adam stared disdainfully at it for a moment, not even looking at Gansey’s companion while taking his order and making his coffee.
The next fifteen minutes were steam and sweat and silent swearing as everything that could have gone wrong, did go wrong. Adam just kept praying that his shift at his other job later wouldn’t be such a mishap.
Finally, Blue slammed the back door open with her hip while tying her hair up. In between her teeth were the bobby pins that were required to keep up the choppy, asymmetrical dark bob that always had small chunks escaping and sliding into her face.
“Hey, I’m sorry I’m late,” she said, sliding the last of the bobby pins into her hair.
“You’re okay,” he said. “I managed. The rush is over for now.”
“God. I’m really sorry now,” Blue said. They served the last, straggling, hassled Aglionby student who ran out without shoving a tip into the jar. The only nice thing about Aglionby students was that they always tipped. Throwing money around because to them it was disposable.
It made Adam cringe. Adam who always had to work for every penny he had.
When Blue stepped up on tiptoe to kiss Adam’s on the cheek- she was 5’ to Adam’s 5’ 11”- she smelled like lavender and cloves. Her whole apartment was a clash of scents, each room, like the many occupants, having its own fragrance. Adam could tell, just by how Blue smelled, the number of rooms from which she’d taken her clothes that morning. Lavender was hers and cloves was Calla’s. Probably the scarf which Blue used like a shawl was Calla’s.
They’d worked together here, at the Alto, for nearly a year before they’d started dating. Blue was small but intimidating. All teeth and strong words and eclectic. Strong. Independent.
If Adam had to assign Blue a colour, it wouldn’t be her name. It would be red. Fire.
When Adam looked at Blue, he saw a million things he was and a million things he would never be, even though he wished for them.
“I’ll clean up and do the dishes,” Blue said. “It will hopefully make up for my lateness.”
Adam smiled and kissed her on the cheek. The Alto had two customers in it and probably would not gain more for another half an hour. Gansey and the other Aglionby boy were sitting by the window as Gansey had promised. Now Adam saw a shaved head and a feral smirk. A raven tattoo on his shoulder and another tattoo curling its way up his neck.
Ronan Lynch.