Page 438 of End Game

“Fuck you.”

“Noted.”

I laugh and cry at the same time, which should be illegal.

Ronan keeps holding me.

No rush.

No demand that I explain.

Eventually words happen anyway.

“There were no bees.”

His hand pauses. “What?”

“In my skull.”

Ronan resumes stroking my back.

“There were no bees in my skull for like twenty minutes.”

“Closer to thirty-seven.”

I lift my head.

“You timed it?”

“Of course.”

I stare at him.

Then laugh.

His mouth curves.

Small.

Proud.

That's what I see.

Not smug exactly.

Proud.

Like he did something difficult and it worked.

Like I did something difficult and he noticed.

“You really shut me up.”

“Yes.”

“And my brain.”

“For a while.”