[Noah frowns, the scant remains of lips bending over broken teeth. He can feel the truth in Magnus’ words, and the comforting warmth of his offer, and after a moment, he lets himself seep from beneath the sofa. Evening light filters through his ragged sweater.]
I hate it. [His skeleton arms wind around himself, unnatural and eerie.] I don’t want to be this.
[he extends his arms out, for a hug. he offers them so rarely, it's a little macabre that there's no hesitation, when Noah's all bones and grim, psychic remains]
You'll be what you wanna be again, Noah. I promise.
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I hate it. [His skeleton arms wind around himself, unnatural and eerie.] I don’t want to be this.
no subject
[he extends his arms out, for a hug. he offers them so rarely, it's a little macabre that there's no hesitation, when Noah's all bones and grim, psychic remains]
You'll be what you wanna be again, Noah. I promise.