[ Messy. That's not really something Gansey associates with daily life, but he supposes it makes sense. Noah has spent seven years not having to eat, wash, or do any of those things that people do all the time. He supposes that would be messy.

Heavy makes sense from the outset, of course. That goes hand in hand with that solidity that pleases Gansey so much.

He's smiling like a fool. Noah's alive. No longer dead in Gansey's place. No longer fading. No longer spending every day, feeling less and less like himself.

It's less like he's going missing. Less like he'll somehow just be lost. That's a thing Gansey can't bear. He laughs sharply. ]

That must please Ronan. I'm not sure I was the best of company in that regard.

[ He sits back beside Noah, and gently lets their shoulders touch. He's seen horrible things today. Graves and monsters, a world with no sky. It's made anxiety bubble in his chest like a living thing.

But now there's this. There's Noah. That makes everything somehow better. ]

Can I help you? I'd like to. I'd like to make it less...messy, I suppose.