iwasmore: (calm)
[personal profile] iwasmore
Noah couldn't stop looking at his hands. He couldn't stop looking at his feet peeking out of the legs of Krem's sweatpants. He couldn't stop looking in the mirror. Not because he was being vain, but because he could look in a mirror. He didn't see his true self looking back, it wasn't creepy or anything. It was just his face. He was still a ghost, his essence was inside the body Dorian and Adam had helped make, but he looked like him from seven years ago; real and whole.

He wanted to tell everyone, but he was reluctant to leave Krem's side for even a moment after his return from that other Darrow. It had been so hard without him for the week until he came back, wondering if he would come back at all. He had gone from person to person, just so he wouldn't be sitting and watching the apartment door. So he knew it wasn't a time to be left alone. And Krem wasn't talking about what had happened, in the end, which probably meant it was extra terrible.

But Krem was cooking, now, and Noah wasn't being very helpful. He asked Krem if he would be alright if he went out for a little bit, and Krem said of course. Still, no matter the reassurances, he would be brief. Plus, he had barely seen Blue since her return.

So he went to Blue first, and then the rest.
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Noah Czerny

August 2017

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