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When a summer forest fire burned down Ronan’s old hometown, he felt a devastating wave of grief, but also relief.
At the forefront of his mind, he knew the grief was because of who he lost in the fire: his whole family. His mom, his dad, and his precious baby sister all died. He woke up at night screaming, plagued by memories of their deaths. Ronan recalled how the flames licked the wooden buildings, eating away at the thatched roofs, all dry from the blinding sun’s rays. But the relief also came, because while his family passed, so did his lover.
Theodore, known fondly by the town as Theo. He was kind on the outside—sweet, charming, loving, and generous. That’s how he reeled Ronan in. He realized that now. Theo made everyone believe he was a good person, but behind closed doors, he did the unspeakable. And now, Ronan was left to remember those things alone, without a soul to confide in. Maybe it was better that way.
He lived in a new place, now, in Mistria, his farm resting in the vast fields south of the town. Ronan was determined to help them after their earthquake, because, like him, they were deeply affected by a natural disaster. At least everyone survived, but at the same time, parts of their beloved town were rendered to mere rubble.
Recalling the piles of ash and ember, Ronan shivered. He was currently sitting in a chair by the fireplace, reading a cookbook from cover to cover, deciding what recipes to save by dog-earring the pages. Yes, he was aware that was a sin. No, he did not care, as it was his book.
But he started to feel stifled. It had been raining outside all night, and all morning. The pitter-patter of raindrops became harder and harder until lightning struck, and then it abruptly calmed down. The sky broke open, sun shining through gaps in the clouds, celestial rays gleaming down on his open fields.
He was packing his bag for a fishing trip upstream, now, by the eastern road. His hands stilled over the fishing rod as he went to pick it up, hesitating, and then he grabbed it suddenly, heading out the door and to the north. Ronan needed to escape on this rainy day, or else he’d go nutty from staying inside. He hoped the sky wouldn’t cloud over and pour again while he was out, but he prepared with a mudsuit, galoshes, and a waterproof bucket hat. That, and a small cooler, for the fish.
Ronan’s feet stamped on the muddy path, his boots heavy on his feet, tired from yesterday’s plant pruning and field maintenance. He had a goal to reach, trying to ship enough summer fruits and vegetables before the season was over so they could raise the town rank and receive more support from the Capital.
They’d need it, given the fact that multiple buildings in town were off-limits due to damaged foundations. Repairs were necessary, but funds were low. They had the manpower—meaning Errol, March, Olric, Ryis, and Ronan himself—but not the resources. They simply couldn’t afford to buy that much stone, wood, raw metal, and specialized tools. And while Ronan could try to help supply those things, he was only one man. He couldn’t do it all and still maintain his farm. He only went to the mines on rainy days, and he chopped wood when his farm threatened to be overgrown by the creeping brush.
Wading into the river, Ronan cast his line. He watched the bobber for a long time, catching a large rock bass. He fitted his hook with bait before casting it back out, waiting a while for his next bite. The entire time, he tried to keep his mind clear. He thought of cold things, like the October water running over his galoshes. The wind was brisk and cutting. The sky held the smell of snow, like a frost was coming early. A cold front was coming in. He’d cover his crops tonight in case the rain turned to sleet or snow.
It was then, past the road behind him and further beyond the ruins, that Ronan heard someone else walking through the woods. He paid them no mind, but he did listen, hearing the person—a man, judging by their heavy footsteps—whistle a loud, repetitive song. After a few rounds of it, Ronan recognized the tune. It was that of a Mistrian Bluebird, though a little off-key.
He turned around, curious who it was. They were within the ruins now. He couldn’t see them because of a column of stone, and as he paid attention, he felt a pull on the line.
“Fuck,” Ronan muttered, turning around to look down his line. He sighed and watched as it went slack, the fish getting away with his bait. He reeled it back in slowly, with little hope of a bite. By the time it was reeled back in, he didn’t notice the man approaching from behind.
“Any luck?”
Ah. The woodworker.
Ronan speared a worm on his lure. “Some.”
As much as he wanted to help Mistria, he also wanted to know its residents as little as possible. So, while a cold front sank over Mistria, Ronan laid one out in front of Ryis.
“You’re always chilly to us, huh?” Ryis muttered. “You remind me of people in the Capital. Much more distrustful.”
Ronan cast his line. He reeled it in ever so slowly while they talked.
“Aren’t you from there?” Ronan countered, straightening up to look Ryis in the eye. They were roughly the same height, but Ryis was maybe a smidgen taller. Ronan was stockier, though, and well-built. Ryis was dense muscle, his compact frame deceptively narrow. There was a lot of strength packed into his body, Ronan knew, after working with him to repair the wooden braces for the mines, otherwise known as pit props.
“Yeah,” Ryis smiled. “I am. But I grew up in a big family, and my parents both have social jobs. I was behind the bakery counter dealing with customers for years before I began to learn woodworking.”
“Mh,” Ronan hummed, disinterested. He didn’t care about Ryis’ life story. Really, he didn’t. But he couldn’t help but ask a follow-up question, “Why didn’t you go into the culinary arts?”
Ryis looked startled by the question. “Oh. Um, well, it just wasn’t for me. They kept me at the register for a reason.”
Ronan grinned. “So you can make complex furniture, but you can’t bake a cookie?”
“I can bake a mean cookie.” Ryis scoffed. “I just wanted to spend time in other crafts.”
Ronan shrugged.
“Alright. I’ll remember that,” the farmer said as he sat down on a big rock. “What are you out here for?”
“Birding,” Ryis answered. “I was checking to see if a familiar bird returned this fall, but no luck. I think the devastation from the earthquake scared them far off.”
“Species?”
“Mistrian Bluebird,” Ryis replied. “There aren’t many left. I hope they’re okay, wherever they are. It’s a mated pair, you know? That I used to follow…”
“Mn,” Ronan hummed. “Sit with me, then.”
As much as Ronan didn’t want to get overly involved with the townspeople, some of them were pretty hard to keep at arm’s length. Or Adeline, Dozy, or… yeah, Ryis was hard to stay away from. But it was his fault, too, for letting him stay.
Luckily, they didn’t really talk. Ryis just watched birds and journaled in a leather-bound book, and Ronan fished over the next three hours until the sky began to cloud over again, like grey, soiled cotton. He sighed as the smell of snow intensified, and he had to pack up his fish in the cooler so he could process and freeze them before he cast protective netting over his crops. There were still a few weeks left for some additional yield, but not if he let them get crisped up by a frigid frost.
“It’s gonna freeze tonight,” Ronan warned.
“How do you know?” Ryis asked, a little surprised. “The newspaper was delayed in the mail, again. There’s no way you’ve seen the weather column.”
Ronan scoffed. “Just smell the air. It’s different than a clear day.”
Ryis closed his eyes and inhaled. He frowned. “I don’t see what you mean?”
Waving him off, Ronan stood and packed his things. It was now mid-afternoon.
“I need to head back now, else I won’t get shit done,” Ronan said with a sigh.
“Do you need help with anything?”
Ronan glanced at him over his cooler. “Nah. Unless you know how to fillet a fish?”
Ryis made a sheepish expression.
“That’s what I thought, city boy,” Ronan joked.
Ryis gave him a flat expression. “I could learn.”
“Do you want to?” Ronan asked genuinely. “I’ll let you take some home if you help.”
The man bit his lip, probably thinking about fresh rock bass. He tilted his head to the side, then said, “Sure. Why not?”
✧✧✧
“Oh god, oh god, oh god…” Ryis muttered to himself as he attempted to fillet the fish. His knife was steady, but his technique was off.
“Just do your best.” Ronan was beside him with his own cutting board, filleting fish after fish until he was on the last one… all while Ronan struggled with the first. Well, he had to learn somehow.
“Adjust your wrist,” Ronan corrected, reaching slowly to show him how to orient it. Ryis’ skin was cool beneath his hands, like he’d caught the chill in the air. “You’ll get carpal tunnel that way.”
“Carpal what?” Ryis muttered, not really asking, his brow furrowed as he worked the knife under the fillet’s skin. “There. I think?”
“It’s edible,” Ronan said. “Here. Take that one home plus these two. I’d feel bad sending you home with just that.”
Ryis gave him a disappointed look. “Is it that bad?”
“It’s pretty bad, but,” Ronan began, “you did better than I did on my first try.”
Ryis smiled, but then it faded into suspicion. “You’re lying to make me feel better.”
Ronan glanced sideways at him. “No.”
“You’re a terrible liar,” Ryis said, but he was laughing. His eyes kinda glittered, even in the mild light of Ronan’s home. He needed to get a brighter bulb for his table lamp.
Ronan let out a whiff of a laugh. “You caught me. Now, take your fish and scram.”
“Are you like this with everyone?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ronan asked. However, he knew exactly what Ryis was talking about. Ronan was both friendly and abrasive. That was a development post-fire. It was hard to stick to one or the other, especially when the Mistrians were so… hm.
Ryis shrugged. “I just wonder when you’ll, you know, relax. We’re all looking forward to getting to know you, even if it might take a long time.”
Ronan swallowed. “And if I don’t want to know y’all?”
“Well, that’s your choice, but don’t close yourself off if it’s something you might want,” Ryis said, approaching Ronan. Ronan, who was aware their height difference was minuscule, still felt that extra measure Ryis had on him suddenly. He blinked and remembered Theo. The last time he let a man approach like that, he was left with a blackened rib. Ronan flinched ever so slightly, but Ryis stopped in his tracks.
“Sorry.” Ryis smiled, a fragile expression. It looked more like a wince.
Ryis took a step back, giving Ronan a bit of space.
“No, no…” Ronan sighed, running a hand through his hair. He gave Ryis a weak smile. “I probably should get to know people, but, you know, it’s difficult starting over.”
“Oh, I know,” Ryis laughed. He rubbed the back of his hair, ruffling his undercut. “I was lucky my Uncle was there to introduce me to everyone. Still, it sucked leaving my friends and family behind in the capital. I still think about going back, sometimes.”
I can’t go back. I have nowhere to return to.
“I get that,” Ronan lied through his teeth.
Ryis nodded, a little awkward. Ronan wondered why, because he was an adept liar. There was little chance he saw through his facade.
“Well,” Ronan said abruptly. “It’s time for me to cover my crops.”
“Do you need help?”
“Nah,” Ronan shook his head. “You head on home before it gets dark. The sun has been setting sooner and sooner. I don’t want you to get caught on the road in the pitch black. New moon tonight.”
“Right,” Ryis murmured. He lifted his waxed bag of fillets. “See you later. Thanks for the fish.”
Ronan didn’t know what possessed him to say the following words: “We should do this again sometime, before it gets too cold.”
Ryis’ eyebrows rose sharply. He was visibly surprised, stammering as he agreed. “Yeah! Sure. Sounds fun.”
Then, he smiled, and the expression was blinding. “I could teach you about all the local birds. I’ll show you my patches.”
“Patches?”
“My best spots,” Ryis explained. “All my regular spots for birding.”
“Ah,” Ronan uttered. “Sounds fun.”
Ryis laughed. “You’re so awkward.”
Ronan blinked. “Um.”
Ryis laughed harder. When he stopped, he said, “Not in a bad way. It’s endearing.”
Before Ronan could reply, Ryis was opening the front door and heading out with a few last words.
“I’ll see you around, hopefully,” Ryis said. “Don’t be a stranger.”
“I—bye!” Ronan called out after him as the door shut, leaving him stunned.
A few words echoed in his head.
It’s endearing.
Ronan touched his cheeks. They were warm.
Fuck.
✧✧✧
Ronan spent a lot of time alone, because ever since that day with Ryis, he’d done the opposite of hanging around. Ronan couldn’t help it. Every time he tried to get to know someone, his heart felt like it’d beat out of his chest. His anxiety went insane, telling him they’d burn up, too.
But on some days, Ronan was calm. Like a placid lake, his body was regulated, his heart beating at a steady pace. On those days, he sought out Ryis for soothing activities like birding, fishing, woodworking, or foraging.
Today, they were birding. Ryis made good on his promise to show Ronan a patch, and now they were outside of town, past the eastern road, sitting down on a log while Ryis adjusted the focus of his binoculars.
“There!” Ryis said, pointing through the red, orange, and yellow falling leaves. Up high, in the gaps of the branches, was what looked like a large crow. “A raven.”
“It’s so big!” Ronan marveled. “Are they related to crows?”
“Yes,” Ryis said softly. “They belong to the same bird family, Corvidae, and the same genus, Corvus.”
“What are the differences?”
“Starting with the obvious: Crows are smaller. They also have a more caw-like sound, rather than the croak of a raven. Listen to it.”
They watched for a long time. Then, the raven tucked its neck and made a loud croaking sound a few times over. Within a few minutes, another bird arrived, presumably its mate. They stood close together on the branch. Then, they began to preen each other, cleaning up their feathers with the clacking of beaks.
“They’re lovely,” Ronan whispered.
“Aren’t they?” Ryis grinned. “Sometimes, I wish I was a bird. Imagine, flying free like that… it would be amazing.”
Ronan smiled slightly. “I’m a little scared of heights. I don’t know about that.”
Laughing, Ryis bumped Ronan’s shoulder. “Any plans for winter?”
“Just planting winter crops,” Ronan said with a shrug. He kicked a rock on the ground and watched it skate across the road. “Preparing for spring. Might look into building a barn for next spring so I can raise some small animals. Ducks and chickens, probably.”
“Well,” Ryis said, “let me know if you need help.”
Ronan swallowed. He nodded. Every time Ryis offered to help him with something, it made Ronan wonder if there was something more to his words. Was he reading into things?
“I will.”
✧✧✧
Ronan wasn’t getting much sleep. And with the dark of the winter came unbearable depression, just another ailment to plague him.
At night, he had visions of intense heat, his skin blistering and bubbling, flesh charred. He could see only roaring flames, orange and yellow with licks of blue. It was so loud, yet there was no screaming. There was no air to breathe to allow one to let out a sound. It was all sucked up by the greedy inferno.
It was hard to get out of bed. He didn’t head into town for a bit, leaving the house only to take care of his crops. But it wore him down, like a file to a nail. Soon, he was bound to file down his finger, too, unable to stop the rending of raw flesh. It felt like he was alive, but rotting away at the same time. A walking corpse.
There was a knock on his door. Ronan snapped out of his catatonia. His eyes darted around the house. Getting out of bed slowly, he shuffled over to the front window, wondering who was there. He saw the dash of blue around a dark neck, and hands rubbing up and down his arms. Ryis.
Ronan answered the door, quickly removing the chain and unlocking it, then ushering Ryis inside.
“Hey,” Ryis said. “Glad to see you’re alive.”
Ronan blinked. “Of course, I am.”
“Well, you haven’t been seen around town for an entire week,” Ryis said, his voice colored with a touch of frustration along with a heavy dollop of concern.
“I didn’t have the need to,” Ronan explained, leaving out the details of waking nightmares and unbearable depression. He got a bit agitated, defensiveness leaching into his tone. “I’m perfectly fine.”
“I’m going to check your fridge,” Ryis said, sighing. It was then that Ronan noticed the bag of groceries in his right hand, its top edge curled up against his palm, crinkled.
“Please, don’t—”
Ronan tried to protest, but Ryis walked past him, opening his fridge and peeking inside. It was empty besides a few condiments. Then, he checked the freezer, seeing only a few pieces of wax-paper wrapped frozen fish fillets and a bag of cut-up frozen fruit.
“Have you been eating?”
Ronan lied. “I ran out yesterday… I was meaning to head up to the general store.”
“When?”
When I got so hungry that I simply couldn’t wait anymore.
“Today,” he said quickly, regretting it immediately.
“It’s 7 PM.” Ryis pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Then, his expression iced over, and his gaze became sharp. He was suspicious. “Ronan… you’re not planning on hurting yourself, are you?”
Ronan was frozen, unsure how to answer.
“I don’t…” he trailed off. Ronan bit his lip and glanced to the side, unable to make eye contact. “It’s just seasonal depression.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah,” Ronan said firmly. “It’ll go away.”
“Hm,” Ryis hummed. Then, he set the grocery bag on the dining table. “I’m cooking dinner. Then, I’m sleeping on the couch, and you’ll head into town tomorrow with me to see Valen.”
The doctor?
“I don’t need to see a doctor,” Ronan said abrasively. He shook his head.
Ryis went quiet. By the clench of his jaw, Ronan knew he wanted to argue. But then, once he finished stocking the fridge, Ryis said softly, “Would you like to help me cook?”
Ronan thought about it. He didn’t want to fight, so he agreed. Ronan helped chop up the veggies for the stir fry, watching as Ryis seared the meat. Then, he mixed up a sauce and combined everything in one pan. It tasted so very good, but Ronan only ate a little, his stomach sensitive from days without eating. Already, he felt a bit better.
But it was then, looking down at his mostly full plate, that Ronan began to cry. It started silently. Tears rolled down his cheeks for a bit before Ryis noticed.
When Ryis spoke, it was gentle.
“You don’t have to tell me what’s going on, but please, let me help you.”
“Why do you care? I’m basically a stranger.”
Ronan sniffled. His nose was dripping.
“No, you’re not,” Ryis said confidently. “You’re Ronan Moore, and you’re the guy who goes fishing, who gives Dell frogs and turtles, who cares about the town despite barely knowing us. You helped restore the mines, you help Eiland with the dig site, and you’ve been nearly singlehandedly providing food for the town. You wonder why I’d help you? There are plenty of reasons, but the most important one is that you’re human. You need help, and that’s okay.”
Ronan began to cry harder. He hadn’t cried since over a year ago, watching the flames, hands over his mouth as he watched his love and life disappear. And he’d never cried in front of someone else. Never.
“I can’t handle this,” Ronan said, his voice choked, sentence punctuated with hiccups. It was hard to get words out. “I can’t handle being alone. I-I thought I could. I thought it was b-better. Then, there was no one to lose.”
Ryis gave him a sad smile. “People aren’t meant to be alone.”
“I know.”
“What will Valen prescribe?” Ronan asked. He didn’t know of any drugs that could just get rid of sadness.
“Probably talk therapy,” Ryis said.
“I really, really don’t want to do that,” Ronan replied, his voice cracking.
“Then, maybe, talk to me,” Ryis suggested. “I won’t tell anyone anything. I promise.”
Ronan sniffled. “I don’t want to dump it all on you. It’s a lot.”
Ryis shrugged. “I get that. But you can. If you want.”
“Um.” Ronan didn’t know what to say. “Maybe another day.”
Ryis smiled, then chewed a bite of food. “Okay. Another day.”
It was a promise. Another day, they would talk. Hopefully, by then, Ronan would be willing. Perhaps, eventually, it would be good to get everything off his chest. But not now.
“It’s good,” Ronan said softly. He took another small bite. “Thanks.”
Ryis grinned. “Right? It’s my mom’s recipe. If you cut the ingredients finer, then it can be a filling for a pie. You need to cook out a lot more water from the veggies, though.”
“I see,” Ronan said, picking at the dish. He ate a sliver of pepper.
They ate in silence, and then Ryis washed the dishes at his insistence. Ronan sat at the dinner table, watching.
Ryis asked, “You seem a little better, so will you be okay if I head home? I don’t want to be in your hair. I’ll come back around tomorrow after work.”
Ronan’s heart beat faster inside his chest. Panic.
“Don’t,” he said before he could stop his stupid mouth.
Ryis raised his eyebrows. “Should I stay?”
“No. Yes. I mean… If you can?”
Ryis’ eyes creased with a small smile. “Yeah. I can.”
✧✧✧
Ryis slept over on the couch, at his insistence. He was so sweet about it, too. And in the morning, he made porridge for Ronan before he woke. It was oats, milk, cinnamon, and an apple reduction made using the frozen fruit from last fall—delicious.
He ate the food slowly, getting through half and putting away the rest for lunch. When he tucked it in the fridge, he saw the rest of the groceries Ryis bought. Chicken cutlets, mushrooms, assorted veggies and fruits, and a few other things here and there filled out the shelves.
The farmer put his head in his hands. He wanted to cry, but he didn’t. He’d cried enough already.
But one thing stood out amongst the mix of gratitude and pain: Ronan was falling. Hard.
It terrified him.
✧✧✧
Winter passed slowly. Each day was full now, with the company of Ryis. And then Landon, when Ryis brought him over for dinner. And then March, who was suspiciously nice after Ryis talked with him. Gone was the open hostility; in was the quiet companionship as Ronan spent time at the blacksmith’s after gathering ore in the mines.
They even went birding late at night, observing the woods on the edge of Ronan’s land, catching sight of a snowy owl.
Ronan didn’t open up for a long time. Ryis was patient with him, but he insisted on not leaving him alone for too long. He was adept at reading Ronan’s mood, always sticking close, the same eyes that identified birds at a glance parsing Ronan’s disposition in a second or two. So, Ronan stopped lying, at least outright. Sometimes, he still lied by omission.
Today was a good day, though. He was spending time outdoors with Ryis, collecting firewood for a winter bonfire later, just outside of town. The others were also in the woods, mostly the young folk, but also Errol and Terithia.
They walked in silence, filling a sled with a large fastened basket with the twigs and logs. There was a dry spell lately, and Mistria’s land was free of the dampening snow. That was the only reason they were able to plan this big party.
Eventually, Ronan spoke.
“I like the winter, I think.”
Ryis didn’t reply very fast. He was a decent measure away, bending down to lift a heavier log. He lifted it with ease, and a faint blush dusted over Ronan’s cheeks. He hoped the chill of the air was a good excuse for the redness.
“You think?” Ryis asked. He was clearly making fun of Ronan. He dropped the log in the big basket.
Ronan gave him a flat expression. “Oh, be quiet. I was musing.”
“What makes you like winter so much?” Ryis asked seriously. “I’ve always been more of a fall guy.”
Ronan thought for a minute.
“I like the quiet. Everything feels so… still.”
“Mhm,” Ryis hummed, going for an even bigger log. “It is nice. Also, harder to spook the birds, at least when you’re walking through light snow. No leaves crunching underfoot.”
“It’s always back to birds with you, huh?” Ronan commented with a grin. Amusement shone in his eyes.
“I love them. What can I say?” Ryis said with a shrug.
He heaved another log into the basket with a loud thump. Then, he wiped his brow, sighing.
“Think that’s enough wood?”
“I think the bonfire this year will break records.”
Ryis laughed. “We should make this an annual thing.”
Ronan grinned. “We should.”
✧✧✧
Ronan was stiff as he watched the bonfire. It was certainly… record-breaking, like he said. But it was also terrifying. He tried to hold in his terror, but his condition, which he’d since read about and learned was called PTSD, wouldn’t let him find peace.
This was a bad idea. I thought I could handle it, but I can’t.
Ronan stood up in the middle of s’mores time. Ryis and March glanced up at him, and then Ryis’ gaze became concerned in a flash. Ronan looked away, eyes darting about, finding a path through the crowd. He began to move, and no one stopped him, but Ryis and March followed.
“Ronan!” Ryis called out. Ronan sped up. He began to run.
“Hey!” March called after the farmer. “Slow down!”
“I’m fine!” Ronan yelled, the lie carrying over the crisp winter air. Except his voice caught towards the end, and suddenly his face felt frozen with lines of icy tears dripping down his cheeks. “I’m fine. You r-really don’t have to—!”
Ryis’ feet beat against the dirt loudly behind him. Then, Ronan felt a hand on the back of his shirt collar, yanking him back into a hard chest. Ronan gasped, choking a little as his shirt pressed against his throat. He let out a wounded sound.
“Sorry!” Ryis yelped. Then, he lowered his voice. “Sorry… I meant to grab your shoulder.”
“You—!” Ronan felt a brief wave of fury. He yelled at the top of his lungs, “Stop caring!”
Ryis let go. His expression fractured before he steeled himself. “I’m not going to let you chase me away.”
“Just stop!” Ronan said, his voice breaking. His brows knit as tears poured from his eyes, his nose snotty, his face wet and cold from the frigid air. A red line was pressed into his throat from the shirt grab. He reached up and thumbed at it. “You don’t—You don’t know why.”
“Then tell me,” Ryis said, oh so gentle. He stepped forward, closing in on Ronan. He reached up and cupped his cheeks. His thumbs brushed away his tears, or some of them. Everything felt so awful. Everything besides his touch, warm and comforting. “Tell me. I can help you.”
“I can’t,” Ronan gasped out, his breaths coming hard and fast as he hyperventilated. “I can’t, you can’t, I can’t.”
Ryis hugged him tight. His chin slotted over the other man’s shoulder. His arms tightened so much, Ronan could barely breathe. But then he could, as his grip slowly loosened, March standing twenty feet back with a frown on his face. They made eye contact.
March nodded. “I’ll leave you two alone. I’ll be in the inn, if you want company, later.”
Ronan nodded against Ryis, burying his face in his neck afterward. He breathed in deeply, taking in the scent of cedar and lemon.
“I can’t stand seeing you in pain.”
Ronan’s breathing hitched.
Ryis pulled back, cupping Ronan’s face in his hands.
“Can I kiss you?”
Ronan was stunned into silence. Even his breathing stopped. After a long moment, he asked, “What?”
Ryis swallowed and looked away. “Forget it, I shouldn’t have—”
Ronan’s confusion cleared up.
“You like me?”
Turning back to Ronan, Ryis frowned. “I thought I made it obvious.”
Ronan's mouth gaped.
“I didn’t?” Ryis murmured, shocked. “I thought you knew.”
“No!” Ronan said loudly, reaching up to lightly slap Ryis’ chest. “You idiot!”
Ronan laughed. “Well, now I… I almost forgot why I was crying.”
Ryis had a complicated expression on his face. “It’s okay if you don’t like me back.”
“No, I do…” Ronan said with a heavy sigh. “Time and place, Ryis.”
Ryis cringed. “Right.”
Ronan laughed again. “Don’t make it a habit to confess to people while they’re having a panic attack.”
“I was trying to calm you down…” Ryis groaned, putting the back of his hand to his forehead. “Ugh. Idiot.”
“Don’t call yourself that,” Ronan scolded. “You’re not an idiot.”
“But…”
Ronan reached up, pulling Ryis’hand away from Ryis’ face. He pulled a wad of tissues out of his pocket and cleaned up his face, all while muttering, “I can’t believe you wanted to kiss this snotfest.”
Ryis laughed. “I’d survive.”
“Mhm,” Ronan hummed, tucking the gross tissue back in his pocket, folded up. “Well, I’m ready now, if you still want to.”
Ryis’ eyebrows rose. “Really?”
“I won’t offer twice.”
Ryis’ head tipped back with a laugh. Then, he was gripping Ronan’s face and kissing him, just a quick series of pecks. One, two, three. Ronan’s eyes were sliding shut. Then, the fourth kiss lingered. Ronan tilted his head to the right, soaking in the mood. Ryis liked him. Good, sweet Ryis. Ryis, who grew up in a good, safe home. He was a perfect, undamaged man.
Ronan kissed back hard. He wanted to burn this memory into his lips and memory.
Ryis gasped. “Whoa.”
Opening his eyes, Ronan smiled weakly up at Ryis.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?”
Ryis blinked. “Why wouldn’t it be? I like you. You like me… right?”
“I do,” Ronan said, “but…”
“But what?”
“I have a lot of baggage.”
Ryis took that in. He nodded. “Okay. But the only way to know if it’ll work or not is to try. And I really, really want to try.”
Ronan took a deep breath. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Ryis said. “I really do.”
✧✧✧
Later that night, they went back to Ronan’s home and talked extensively. Ronan told him everything. He talked about his mother, father, and baby sister. And he talked about Theo.
Ryis curled up around Ronan in bed. They spooned, so Ronan didn’t have to look him in the eye as he cried through the story. He kept the abuse vague, but when he mentioned being hit, Ryis’ fingers flexed around his hip and waist. And when he mentioned feeling guilty that he was glad that Theo had a painful death, Ryis just nodded against him. He didn’t say anything, and Ronan was glad for that. Having him listen was more than enough, because Ronan’s emotions were no longer bottled up. They came out in a rush, and Ryis took them in, soaking up his pain and feeling it too. It was validating.
“You’re not alone anymore,” Ryis said after they lapsed into silence. He kissed the back of Ronan’s neck, then his shoulder. “You’ll always have me.”
Ronan smiled. “We’ve only known each other for four months.”
“Only?” Ryis mused. “Time slows down when I’m with you. It feels like I’ve known you forever.”
Ronan’s chest felt tight. “Yeah?”
“Mhn,” Ryis hummed. He took a big breath and then sighed. He sounded so comfy. “So. No more big bonfires, from now on.”
Ronan laughed. “No, apparently.”
“I can live without them,” Ryis replied. “Do you want to bake something with me tomorrow? Glowberry cookies. We can harvest them ourselves, then come back to cook a few batches.”
“Sounds delicious,” Ronan answered. His eyelids were drooping as he became more and more tired. “Can we stay like this?”
Ryis nodded against him. “Of course.”
“Good,” Ronan muttered, and then he nodded off. He was so comfortable that he slept through the night entirely, waking up still wrapped in Ryis’ arms.
Ronan rolled over, kissing the tip of Ryis’ nose.
Ryis’ warm eyes opened. “Morning, sweetheart.”
Ronan groaned. “You can’t call me that.”
“Do you not like it?”
“I—” Ronan sighed. “I like it, but that’s not the point.”
Ryis smirked. “Okay, sweetheart.”
Ronan covered his mouth with a hand. Ryis laughed hard behind it. Ronan, eventually, took his hand away, then replaced it with his lips, kissing Ryis. He sighed into the press of their lips together, melting against Ryis’ chest.
A thought flittered through his mind.
He was genuinely happy. In that moment, no darkness lingered. It was all light.
Ronan separated from Ryis, breaking the kiss. He smiled down at him.
“Thanks for not giving up on me,” Ronan said, his voice thin, on the edge of cracking. The sincerity was apparent.
“I’d never,” Ryis replied, reaching up to brush ginger hair away from Ronan’s face. “I’ll always be here for you.”
Ronan took a deep breath. “Me too. I promise, you can rely on me.”
“We’ll rely on each other,” Ryis said back. “Okay?”
“Okay.”
That was something Ronan could do. He’d always been better at give-and-take rather than total dependence. Theo had taken that from him, but now? He could see the path forward to a healthy relationship. He had both confidence and hope, and Ryis had been the one to reassure him that it was possible.
“I like you so much,” Ronan said softly. “We should go birding sometime soon. Make that birdhouse for those bluebirds.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhn,” Ronan hummed. “I’ll start my own journal. Maybe find a patch that we can share.”
“Careful, to me, that sounds an awful lot like a marriage proposal.”
Ronan laughed. “Bird brain.”
Ryis tackled him against the bed, pinning him down. He kissed Ronan. Then, when he pulled back, Ryis said, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Ronan let out a breathy laugh.
“Of course, you would.”