[ What she wouldn't have given for someone to have done the same, when she lost those she loved. To hold her and listen, to be there even if they neither would be able to understand her grief nor herself be able to voice her sorrow properly. But this feels different, this feels... as if what she is doing isn't enough for him. Why does it feel that way. In truth, suddenly she feels quite helpless herself in the face of his grief.
She continues to embrace him anyways, because-- Do you think there are any exceptions? --What a hypocrite she is. She won't help him. She can only hold him.
Pyra allows him to rest against her shoulder, holding him to her but not enough that he cannot move away from her or adjust if he so pleases. She wishes to facilitate, not to stifle. Only occasionally does her hand move against the back of his head, flatting out his hair in soft, smooth pats; another time, she repeats in a whisper: it's not your fault. And should he still be listening, she will also say: it hurts; I know, I know. I'm sorry.
When it seems that grief has passed, no matter how long it is, she loosens her embrace to draw somewhat away, moving to press her forehead against his. Just as when they had first met, she'll guide him, breathing with him, to usher in a calm. Her warmth is shared in their proximity beneath the blanket, but should he break away to meet her eyes, he'll see they're misting. ]
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She continues to embrace him anyways, because-- Do you think there are any exceptions? --What a hypocrite she is. She won't help him. She can only hold him.
Pyra allows him to rest against her shoulder, holding him to her but not enough that he cannot move away from her or adjust if he so pleases. She wishes to facilitate, not to stifle. Only occasionally does her hand move against the back of his head, flatting out his hair in soft, smooth pats; another time, she repeats in a whisper: it's not your fault. And should he still be listening, she will also say: it hurts; I know, I know. I'm sorry.
When it seems that grief has passed, no matter how long it is, she loosens her embrace to draw somewhat away, moving to press her forehead against his. Just as when they had first met, she'll guide him, breathing with him, to usher in a calm. Her warmth is shared in their proximity beneath the blanket, but should he break away to meet her eyes, he'll see they're misting. ]
...Ah. Noct?