demaeter:

Ronan, still in ruins, looked over his shoulder at them. In the dim light of the flashlights, the tattooed hook that edged out above his collar looked like either a claw of a finger or part of a fleur-de-lis. It was nearly as sharp as his smile.

“I guess now would be a good time to tell you,” he said. “I took Chainsaw out of my dreams.”

insp.(x)