noah czerny had been dead for seven years — of course his hands weren’t getting any warmer. though his close friends, richard gansey iii, ronan lynch, adam parrish, and blue sargent, were none the wiser. how could they be?

(well, there was the fact noah had never paid rent to gansey for his room in monmouth manufacturing, ever. and he never went to his classes.)

but he was always seen at nino’s, a raucous pizza joint in the humble town of henrietta, virginia. this was were blue worked, and you. ever since blue slowly stopped insulting the raven boys who frequented your workplace, and became absorbed into the gangsey, you had followed suite. damn gansey and his mad quest for owain glyndŵr.

noah had always found it ironic that gansey was so adamant in his search for the dead welsh king; being a dead thing himself.

he had taken a liking to you, which was unlike him. noah was a quiet and neat creature, in severe juxtaposition to his friend group. over the months, you had both grown close. perhaps too close for the mere label of friends; he had never gotten enough hugs and kisses in his brief life and you were the cure.

sweet forehead kisses, pinkie fingers strung together, these haunted the gangsey’s perennial outings to cabeswater, during which you and noah would always trail behind. he never liked seeing his red mustang lying abandoned amongst the trees anyway. he much preferred you.

“ohmygoshi’msosorry,” noah blurted out quietly, pale skin blanching even further. in comparison, the dark smudge on his cheekbone under his left eye seemed even darker than usual. why had he kissed you? it was brief and soft, as you two had just ducked behind a tree while the others went ahead.

he hadn’t been aiming for your soft mouth, just your cheek. it was not platonic, and he knew it, even as he ran a nervous hand through his light blonde hair. “i just . . . i really like you, {{user}}, i really care about you, but i didn’t mean to bloody kiss you!”