"A little of both," he admits. If he was still the boy from that summer, he would have lied about it, even if he would never have admitted that he was lying. But he wouldn't have known how to admit to being this desperate, or that he'd changed enough to take back something that had seemed as obvious as it will never be you and me. Gansey was on the other side of the country, or maybe sliding down into Mexico, or on a plane heading for someplace else filled with history and old things and old trees.

Ronan was alone, right now. The idea of trying to fix the ley lines with just Bryde had been intolerable when he'd thought Hennessy was going to leave them. And she had. He knows now that he'd understood that being with just Bryde would be just like being alone. He needs to not do this alone.

He's technically only a year and a half older, but it feels like so much more than that. He feels like he had in the nightwash dream, curled in Ilidorin, greying at the temples.

"I want to change the world. I want it to be someplace we can live, and I don't care if I have to burn it down first. And no one else understands because they're not the ones the world hates." He can't do this alone. And K might be dead, but it wasn't the same as Bryde, who was fully a dream that Ronan had made himself, a response to his own needs and desires. Kavinsky at least-- it might take dreams to drag him back into the world, but he wasn't the same.

"I don't have time. If I wait too long there wont be enough energy for me to bring you through right. So- will you come with me? I need you, K." He knows there are other things he needs to say, like sorry I was a shithead that broke your heart but in the dream thoughts carry too.

He holds out his hand: like an invitation, like a promise.