[It took him a moment to realize Ronan had picked up on his reaction to figuring out what must have happened to Prokopenko, but when he did- people didn't usually try to reassure him. They didn't try to comfort Kavinsky. So the fact that Ronan was making this attempt- it made him want to fucking cry. He could feel his throat tighten and the tears burn, but he refused. He blinked them back and cleared his throat.]

So there's hope for him. Maybe someone'll figure something out.

[He had to believe that because the alternative was unbearable.

He listened quietly to Ronan as he spoke after that, eyebrows raising at the fact Gansey had a girlfriend. The girl who'd been at the Fourth of July? He'd already made the joke that came to mind in this moment, so he didn't repeat it. As much as he was tempted to.

It was easier, instead, to be bitter and feel a little lonely that Ronan had had this group of friends who were totally in on all the weird shit in his life, when Kavinsky had only had Prokopenko--and then Ronan. And things with Ronan hadn't gone so well.

He didn't even know who the hell Orphan Girl was, and he didn't particularly care (right now, at least), but the idea of everything Ronan had created being unmade through him was- it made him hold the other dreamer a little tighter.]

I'm sorry. [His throat was tight again with unshed tears and his voice was a soft murmur.] I didn't- I never wanted you to fucking die. It's not fair.

[But life wasn't fair, and Kavinsky was well aware of that. It didn't stop it from feeling especially cruel that the boy he loved had been killed, though. Especially not when his life had just been looking up again.]

Nothing is going to lay a hand on you here. Someone hurts you, I'll break their fucking fingers.