[and the image of himself that he carries around, for the most part -- visible ribs and a notched spine, lank hair, shineless eyes, awkward, weak, head down -- is suddenly pushed aside for how Noah sees him, all brightness and good qualities. it's like an upgrade from black and white to technicolour, and Magnus' head snaps up, eyes wide. Noah's never done that to him before; and apart from Sam (and now Noah), no one's seen him, from before he was dead and stronger and cleaner and better fed]
[but it's not about how he looks now versus how he looked then. you always were, Noah says, and Magnus finds himself -- touched, instead of embarrassed, something strong stirring in his heart for Noah, his dead friend. Noah's so good, and Magnus is so lucky to know him (and that thought is loud and clear both on his face and in his mind, blaring)]
...C'mere, Fun-Guy.
[the last time Magnus touched Noah first was during a crisis, when Noah needed it; there's no crisis here, just Magnus wanting to show Noah he appreciates him, the way Noah understands it. he slings an arm around his shoulders, tugs him in, a little awkward, but warm]
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[but it's not about how he looks now versus how he looked then. you always were, Noah says, and Magnus finds himself -- touched, instead of embarrassed, something strong stirring in his heart for Noah, his dead friend. Noah's so good, and Magnus is so lucky to know him (and that thought is loud and clear both on his face and in his mind, blaring)]
...C'mere, Fun-Guy.
[the last time Magnus touched Noah first was during a crisis, when Noah needed it; there's no crisis here, just Magnus wanting to show Noah he appreciates him, the way Noah understands it. he slings an arm around his shoulders, tugs him in, a little awkward, but warm]