Noah remained where he was, arms hugged around his body. He looked remarkably less alive than he had earlier; there was something smudgy about his eyes, something uncertain about his edges. It was kind of hard to look at the place where Noah stopped and the shadow below him began. Something unpleasant happened in Blue’s throat when she tried to make out what was off about his face.
“I’m tired of it,” said Noah.
“Tired of what?” Gansey said, voice kind.
“Decaying.”
He had been crying. That was what was wrong with his face, Blue realized. Nothing supernatural.
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Knowing it’s real means you gotta make a decision. One, keep denying it. Or two, do something about it.
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trc aesthetics » f r i e n d s h i p s » gansey & noah
Because it was Noah and no one else, Gansey could admit, “I don’t know what I’ll do if I find him, Noah. I don’t know what I’ll be if I’m not looking for him. I don’t know the first thing about how to be that person again.”
Noah put the clay in Gansey’s hands. “That’s exactly how I feel about the idea of being alive again.”
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maenons