[ There's little and less she can do for him other than offer her opinion and her beliefs, a listening ear. She can feel the fine tremor in him as her words ring through him, the thrum of a struck bell still ringing, vibrating the very air. Sometimes that's all it really took.
To his credit, it's such a clean break by the time he's gathered his pieces back up and arranged them back together, you'd scarcely see so much as a chip let alone the web of cracks now littering him. Head to toe, the curl of his body invoking more where he bends, the flimsy shell of "leader" under duress. There's no quickened or shortness of breath, no sniffles, and he doesn't even really reach to circle her in his arms.
He takes her embrace the way he's taken everything thrust upon him thus far. Quiet and without complaint, to the best of his ability. She feels his tears soak right through the wool to her skin and his words have come to a dead stop.
The little nod he offers only smears his tears further, but for as long as he needs, he doesn't have to worry about impressions or holding himself together for a change.
She gets it. She really does. So for now she just keeps with the steady card of her fingers through his hair, keeping her breathing measured for him to pace his own to, head resting against his as she kneads at his neck gently. Same pacing, slow and easy. It's a while before he finally raises his head and lets her go, hand immediately dropping to find Eiger beneath his palm as she draws back just enough to meet him with a smile.
And then she's cupping his cheeks, thumb brushing beneath one eye. Even if his tears have dried there's still a dampness at his lashes and she'll fan them back out. ]
I'm glad. They're certainly words to evaluate for yourself, but take your time. They're yours if you'll have them. [ Then, smile widening: ] They have other supervision. They'll be just fine, I promise. You're free to sleep wherever you please, and the shower's also all yours. There's a guest room upstairs across from mine, or there's the sofas here and the rollout over there, or there's also the sunroom. If you like listening to the creek.
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To his credit, it's such a clean break by the time he's gathered his pieces back up and arranged them back together, you'd scarcely see so much as a chip let alone the web of cracks now littering him. Head to toe, the curl of his body invoking more where he bends, the flimsy shell of "leader" under duress. There's no quickened or shortness of breath, no sniffles, and he doesn't even really reach to circle her in his arms.
He takes her embrace the way he's taken everything thrust upon him thus far. Quiet and without complaint, to the best of his ability. She feels his tears soak right through the wool to her skin and his words have come to a dead stop.
The little nod he offers only smears his tears further, but for as long as he needs, he doesn't have to worry about impressions or holding himself together for a change.
She gets it. She really does. So for now she just keeps with the steady card of her fingers through his hair, keeping her breathing measured for him to pace his own to, head resting against his as she kneads at his neck gently. Same pacing, slow and easy. It's a while before he finally raises his head and lets her go, hand immediately dropping to find Eiger beneath his palm as she draws back just enough to meet him with a smile.
And then she's cupping his cheeks, thumb brushing beneath one eye. Even if his tears have dried there's still a dampness at his lashes and she'll fan them back out. ]
I'm glad. They're certainly words to evaluate for yourself, but take your time. They're yours if you'll have them. [ Then, smile widening: ] They have other supervision. They'll be just fine, I promise. You're free to sleep wherever you please, and the shower's also all yours. There's a guest room upstairs across from mine, or there's the sofas here and the rollout over there, or there's also the sunroom. If you like listening to the creek.
You're going to be just fine, Shiro.