#Chapter218
The big guy, decked out in the custom made sweater, shrugged and chugged the Christmas milk from the chipped mug in front of him. When he set it back down, he sighed deeply, his body slumping forward, forearms bracing down against the distance that divided them. /"Hearts don't deal in absolutes or certainties. I ain't got the answer to that./"
Ronan nodded. If he was honest, he'd expected that answer, or something along the lines of it.
/"But I'll tell you this: you get stronger. Ain't gonna spew the bullshit off 'time heals all' cuz that ain't true and time will freeze you to the spot and keep you hostage in your own mind for years if you'll let it./" Angel polished off the rest of his drink. He'd probably drank a wee bit more than he should have, counting the shots of whisky he'd been slipping in on the side, and his eyes seemed brighter for it.
/"Time heals all is cliché and overrated anyway,/" he agreed.
