they say looks can kill and i might try

Jude

Every time we touch, your hands are colder, colder
There's no beating coming from your wooden chest

"I do," he adds swiftly to her weak protest, certainty a line through his brow. Even if she wasn't infected, he would need to do this. To be a friend capable of putting their own hang ups and insecurities aside to make something important happen. He's done nothing but take and take from the Carpenters - from her in particular - and he is so tired of having so little to give in return. Purpose eludes him, but maybe he can find it in fixing someone else's life.

"You can write me letters, duh." He wrinkles his nose dramatically, mimicking the intonation Noe always uses when she says it. "I can write you literally every day. By time you get the first one, I'll already be writing you another." Jude pauses in the wake of his comforting smile, lips dropping slow. "I know it's not the same. I don't want to leave you alone in the house. But if I go, maybe I can get Koa back faster so you won't be alone anyway."

Frozen grin, a mannequin when I get closer
I can see the strings, they're underneath your vest