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Noah’s been missing all day.
Normally, that wouldn’t be a big deal. Noah has a bad habit of blinking in and out, of vanishing altogether and reappearing without warning. It’s par for the course when one of your best friends is a ghost. But Blue likes to think she has a feel for when these things are off.
She wouldn’t call it a sixth sense, because that phrase leaves a sour taste in her mouth, and if she ever said it out loud, there would be no shortage of people laughing at her expense, but it’s there. And right now, it’s nagging at her.
When she asked Gansey if he’d seen Noah today, he simply shrugged and turned back to his map of Henrietta. If he’d even stepped foot out of his room today, it’d be a surprise.
So Blue is working solo. Which is fine, because Noah, especially regressed Noah, is nothing if not predictable. He likes the familiar crannies. He wants attention but also doesn’t. He likes to be known but not known enough that he can’t have time to himself, but also known enough for someone to check on him so he doesn’t have to be alone. Simple stuff, really.
She finds him in the common room, the perfect place for someone who wants to be seen but doesn’t want to have to ask. Blue enters, not even having to exaggerate her footsteps like she sometimes does for Gansey. He knows she’s there in a second, and his head snaps up to prove as much.
The wideness of his eyes is a dead giveaway. He struggles for words on a normal day, but even if he were wanting this, were waiting for this, that didn’t mean he came prepared. “Hi.”
“Hi, yourself.” Blue’s eyes flit to the project in front of him. “Whatcha working on?”
A half-cannibalized newspaper sits sprawling over the floor, and in front of Noah, a handful of carefully folded… somethings. A few strips of newspaper are lain in a pile by his knee, caught halfway between whatever Noah’s making them into.
“Stars,” he says quietly. “Ronan taught me.”
“And where’s Ronan?”
Noah shrugs.
“What about Gansey?” Blue knows for a fact he’s up in his room, but if Noah hadn’t told him what was going on…
Noah’s lips fall into a dim frown, lacking the energy to put any heat behind it. “Told him.”
“I had a feeling.” Blue crouches down beside him, and like clockwork, his free hand winds itself into her hair. “He’s not always the best listener, huh?”
No answer, but the hand in her hair does start up an easy pattern, twirling a strand of hair around his index finger.
“Can you show me how to make the stars?” Blue asks.
He nods, scooting a little closer to Blue. The message is clear. Snuggles are preferred.
She wraps her arms around his middle, giving him a brief reassuring squeeze. The corners of his mouth threaten to turn up.
“First you have to loop it like this,” Noah begins. The way he walks her through the steps, it’s clear that he’s copying the instructions that Ronan gave him. Blue nods along, trying her best to be attentive while fighting back a grin.
Star making turns out to be a lot easier than it looks. It’s mostly just a lot of folding. Then a lot of pinching. She’d never tell Ronan as much, but he’s a genius for this one. Giving Noah something grounding and sensory, as well as something he can decorate his space with. All it’s missing is an element of sparkles and glitter, which means she has the perfect opening to make his idea better.
Noah shows her two separate stars, then pushes the pile of scraps in her direction.
Blue sits up a little straighter, untangling her arms from around Noah’s waist. And while he pouts as the loss of contact, she makes her best effort to stay shoulder to shoulder with him as they both work.
It’s not hard to copy the instructions. It’s definitely not the hardest crafting task she’s undertaken. But she still defers to Noah.
“Like this?”
Noah nods. Then after a moment of thought, he adds, “Good job.”
They fall into an easy rhythm of folding, and before long, they have a full galaxy of newspaper stars.
At some point, Noah abandons star making in favor of snuggling back against Blue. She has a suspicion that this is part of the star making routine too. Explanation, creation, then snuggling. She keeps going so he has something to watch.
“That enough stars for today?”
He hums. “Boo.”
Blue grins, thumbing at the tip of his nose. “Smudge.”
From the way he tucks his face against her shoulder, naptime isn’t too far away. Of course, naptime for Noah is a little different than it is for everyone else. For the most part, it just amounts to cuddle time in the dark where no one’s allowed to talk, and Blue rather likes it like that.
“Jane, did you—oh.” Gansey stops short when he sees Noah. He crouches, employing his picture perfect “I’m trying to charm children” voice. “Hi there.”
Noah presses his lips together, giving nothing away. He’s usually not one to hold a grudge, but his pouting is stuff of legends.
“We are learning how to make stars,” Blue says. She gives him a pointed look, the kind that quietly says that if he doesn’t indulge Noah she’ll box his ears. To emphasize her point, she pats the empty space beside her.
Gansey grins. “Well, doesn’t that sound fun? May I join you?”
Noah shrinks as the pair of eyes turn on him. The influx of attention is a lot, but he has to be the one to make that decision. Unfortunately for him, he’s in charge.
It takes a moment, but Noah gestures to the empty spot on his other side, a clear invitation to start the cycle over. Noticing they’re out of strips, Blue takes the liberty of ripping one free herself. When she has enough, Gansey has done just what was wanted of him, a casual arm wrapped around Noah’s shoulders.
“First you have to loop it like this…”