"You'd better." He knows it's petty. It sounds petty, coming out of his mouth, but he doesn't care. He wants it to sting. You'd better not fuck this up. You'd better not have abandoned me only to fail Ronan.
Bristling, he shoves his hands into his pockets and lifts his shoulders. It's not as ferociously as Ronan would do it nor are his shoulders brought up as high--on Ronan they're like wings, lifted up to his ears--but it's still a distinctive Lynch gesture. He isn't aware that it makes him look like Ronan, just like Ronan would be indignant to be told that sometimes when he's fearsome and brilliant in Latin, incandescent with his own knowledge and power, he looks like Declan. He doesn't want to fight, but he also isn't going to back down, and there's no way he can casually say 'ok thanks, I drove all this way just for that, guess I'll go sit alone in my hotel room for the next seventeen hours until church tomorrow.'
Nor can he ask to be invited in, despite Gansey's offer for him to see for himself that Ronan's not in. Gansey wouldn't lie to him so boldly. The poverty case would. He's a liar, like Declan. Paranoid, like Declan. Ambitious, sharp-edged, simultaneously commanding and forgettable. Like Declan. Sometimes he wonders what that means.
So he waits for Gansey to politely tell him to go fuck himself. Something along the lines of 'thanks so much for visiting today, Declan. I hope Karen is in good health.' Gansey always seems to remember the names of Declan's girlfriends. Sometimes Declan has had to take a moment to figure out who Gansey's talking about, because Declan has not remembered the name of his own girlfriend. He very carefully doesn't ever wonder about what that means.
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Bristling, he shoves his hands into his pockets and lifts his shoulders. It's not as ferociously as Ronan would do it nor are his shoulders brought up as high--on Ronan they're like wings, lifted up to his ears--but it's still a distinctive Lynch gesture. He isn't aware that it makes him look like Ronan, just like Ronan would be indignant to be told that sometimes when he's fearsome and brilliant in Latin, incandescent with his own knowledge and power, he looks like Declan. He doesn't want to fight, but he also isn't going to back down, and there's no way he can casually say 'ok thanks, I drove all this way just for that, guess I'll go sit alone in my hotel room for the next seventeen hours until church tomorrow.'
Nor can he ask to be invited in, despite Gansey's offer for him to see for himself that Ronan's not in. Gansey wouldn't lie to him so boldly. The poverty case would. He's a liar, like Declan. Paranoid, like Declan. Ambitious, sharp-edged, simultaneously commanding and forgettable. Like Declan. Sometimes he wonders what that means.
So he waits for Gansey to politely tell him to go fuck himself. Something along the lines of 'thanks so much for visiting today, Declan. I hope Karen is in good health.' Gansey always seems to remember the names of Declan's girlfriends. Sometimes Declan has had to take a moment to figure out who Gansey's talking about, because Declan has not remembered the name of his own girlfriend. He very carefully doesn't ever wonder about what that means.