Dedication: Sparks12332 for voting and being sweet!

Hey guys I thought you might like a real story-like written chapter!

So here's a little peek into the life of Ronan ;)

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Ronan and Paris continue to work diligently side by side, positioned together along Paris' kitchen bar atop a pair of chairs.

"Pass me a pencil?" Paris asks him, keeping her gaze locked onto the task at hand.

Ronan chuckles, passing her his own pencil without her knowledge. He watches as she bites her bottom lip in concentration.

"I will never understand how you take this so seriously." He states, staring with undeniable boredom at the papers filled with numbers and equations.

Setting down her writing utensil, Paris glances over at him slowly with a skeptical laugh.

"You mean school?"

"Yeah. I don't see the big deal in all of it." He shrugs.

He watches as she studies his face, gauging the seriousness of his statement.

"You are unbelievable." She chuckles, shaking her head, her ponytail swishing silently behind her against the fabric of her t-shirt.

He holds back a grin at her annoyance.

There's something about cracking her open and getting her riled up that's oddly satisfying. He could pick at her and make her mad all day.

But on the other hand, getting her to laugh at his stupid jokes and just be a good friend has its perks.

Ronan smiles as he recalls the many years he's known her. There are things that haven't changed a bit. Like her long golden hair and sparkling blue eyes. Or the way she laughs. She still scrunches her nose up and throws her head back the way she used to as a kid.

Her humor hasn't changed either. Ronan swears, he could still say the word "poop" and she'd find it hilarious.

But there are things that have changed as well. A couple years ago her skin was dotted with pesky pimples. He remembers the way she would poke and prod at them, crying about how they ruined her entire appearance. He never saw it though. He always wondered why she was always so insecure.

Still is, in fact. Not quite as much but...he's still sees it every once in a while. It still annoys him to this day.

He now scans the smooth skin over her face and laughs to himself, remembering how he always told her it would go away.

And Paris says he's never right, huh?

"What are you doing? Get back to work." She elbows him in the side, knocking him out of his reverie.

"Oh sorry I was just thinking about when we were kids." He explains, picking up the pencil and reminding himself to buy another one because Paris has definitely adopted his.

"Oh yeah?" She cocks her head, giving him a sideways grin.

"Yeah. Remember that one time we tied sheets to the trees in my backyard to make hammocks?"

She throws her head back, letting loose one of her famous laughs. "Of course I remember. You didn't tie mine tight enough and I fell and broke my wrist."

"Yeah yeah." He waves this off.

Paris rolls her eyes in fake annoyance. "Enough reminiscing. Back to work."

"Ugh. Why do you have to be so cruel?"  Ronan throws himself over the counter with a groan.

He feels a firm smack on his back, the sound almost hollow and strange. "Ow." He mumbles.

"Stop being such a baby."  She exclaims.

"Can we take an ice cream break?" He inquires.

Surprisingly, she considers this.

He looks to her with a hopeful crooked grin. She laughs, shaking her head at his behavior, before setting her pencil down and slowly sliding off of the stool.

"I suppose one or two bites couldn't hurt."

"I call pistachio." He quickly gets on his feet.

"Oh no you don't. That's my favorite." She crosses her arms.

Ronan scoffs. "Since when?"

"Since forever!" Paris defends with a stubborn glare.

"Fine. We can share." He rolls his eyes.

She smiles victoriously. "I knew you'd see it my way."

"Yeah yeah."