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Ronan Lynch awoke in a field. The warm sunlight shone directly on his face, encouraging the wind to softly wash over him, fluttering between his eyelashes. He felt the grass around him tickling his cheeks and without opening his eyes, imagined what it would’ve looked like. A bright green, almost yellow from the orange sun - slowly peeking out from beneath the mountains - there would be flowers blooming inside it. Daisies, he thought.
Soft, small, white daisies.
He groaned at the sudden weight on his stomach, opening his eyes, only to have his vision covered by messy black hair. He lifted his hand, combing gently through the slightly too soft hair.
“K,” Ronan said, voice still raspy from sleep. “Wake up.”
He received only muffled muttering in return.
“Come on.” He sat up, steading himself with one arm, using the other to hold Joseph’s head from behind. He didn’t want him whining about hitting his head on the grass.
He sat, looking at his partner’s - is that what they were? Partners? - resting form beside him. He had managed to convince Joseph to grow out a mullet, one that now sprayed out in the grass. One singular daisy was glowing next to his head. Ronan smiled, noticing the rest of the daisies decorating the field. Most of them were rather small, the one next to Joseph beating them in both size and beauty without much competition. He thought it made sense that way. The two prettiest flowers in the world resting next to each other.
“You're staring, Lynch.” He mumbled, his eyes fluttering open.
“You can see with your eyes closed now?” Ronan smiled at the light punch that hit his shoulder. Joseph was much softer lately, Ronan wondered if he was happier.
He felt him shifting before he saw it, in a matter of seconds Joseph was standing up, looming over him. His hand was outstretched, waiting. Ronan’s soul melted at the smile on his face.
“Up, up.” Joseph said, motioning with his hands.
Ronan stood up, tugging his shirt down in the process. He waited until a frown started appearing on Joseph’s face before taking his hand.
“You get mad when I call you princess, yet you always act like a bitch.” Joseph said, tugging on his hand. Ronan only grinned.
“It's part of my charm.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He started walking, Ronan following right after him. He didn’t know where they were going, he rarely ever did. He didn’t think it mattered. A small crunch sounded from beneath them and Ronan froze, pulling Joseph to a stop. “You okay?” He asked, concern lacing his voice.
Ronan looked down, dragging Joseph to the side to reveal a crushed daisy.
The glowing one.
He recognised it immediately.
Even in death, it was the prettiest one. The glow wasn't completely gone, only faded. Ronan gasped. Crouching down, he picked it up, hopelessly trying to hold the little thing together, to keep it stable. “No, no, no.” He whispered, frantically trying to press the petals back on their stem. How could it possibly be dead, he thought. How could it be dead when there was still such a beautiful glow coming from it? How could it be dead when it was still so beautiful, so soft, filled with such a lovely light - so gentle, even though it blinded you if you were to look at it for a second too long?
“Ronan, calm down.” Joseph chuckled. “It’s just a flower.”
He wasn't listening to him. Not this time, he swore. He always did, he always listened and he always regretted it. Every single time. He wouldn't regret anything this time.
Joseph crouched down next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing. “Ro?”
Ronan lifted his head to look at him, frowning at the sight. His skin was paler than he had ever seen before, his eyes barely held any light inside of them. “No.” He whispered, a tear falling down his cheek. “Not this time, please. K, not again.”
“What are you talking about?” He asked, cupping his face in his hands. Ronan shivered at the coldness of them.
“You're freezing.” He mumbled.
“It's cold out here. Come, we can go inside.” He smiled softly. “Why are you so upset about a flower?” He stood up, dragging Ronan up with him.
“I miss you.” Ronan abruptly said, barely audible.
Kavinsky didn’t hear him. He never did.
***
His room was colder than usual, he noted. It would’ve been completely dark, were it not for the moon lighting up the room. He didn't know what time it was. It didn't matter most of the time. He looked at the curtains moving with the wind and realised his window had been left open, that explained the cold. He stood up, walking towards it with his hands clenched, fingers digging into the soft flesh. Something fell out of them when they reached for the window, he didn’t need to crouch to see what they were. The white petals glowed slightly, not moving despite the heavy wind around them. He slowly picked them up, throwing them out the window before snapping it shut. He wondered if the noise had woken up Gansey, though no one came into his room for the rest of the night.
For the rest of the school year, nine petals rested outside Ronan Lynch’s window. The glow never did go away.