#Chapter91
/"Birdie,/" Ronan whispered, his words timid frequencies that lodged in the base of his throat. /"I could do it if I wanted to, couldn't I?/"
Ribcage stuck in a tireless workout, rising and constricting beneath the heavy draw of his breathing, lips sore from the way his teeth had butchered them, it took everything he had to hold himself steady. To keep himself upright and vertical. That and the ceramic of the bathroom sink, that was.
/"You can do whatever you want, squiggles,/" Raven replied, disturbing the high-octane pressure that had built up in the tiled room, creating a prison of paradoxes. The big guy's reflection shifted, those large shoulders landing down on the doorway that backed out into the bedroom Ronan had once considered his, and those dark eyes met his in the mirror. /"Ain't a damn thing stopping you./"
So why did it feel like there was?
