imeeji_frontstage | (no subject)

[He holds on just as tight, more shaky and less steady by the second]

[But he's very warm, and his embrace is very earnest, and hopefully that is enough to make up for the fact that he's trembling a little, clinging like he means to never let go]

[Undeserved or not (and it surely is), she huddles into his warmth, shoulders hitching. Her fingers knot in his shirt, holding him desperately close as she breaks down a little]

[It's fine]

[It's more than fine, honestly]

[Possibly he is breaking down a little, as well,]

[She can't complain]

[Only tightens her arms around him, squeezing him tighter]

[It goes both ways, honestly]

[By the way his shoulders are shaking, they might be here for a little while]

Edited 2022-03-14 01:01 (UTC)

[By the way her shoulders are shaking, she won't be rushing him]

[His fingers close on the fabric of her jacket, holding tight]

[He pulls her closer still, burying his face against her shoulder]

[The familiar weight of him prompts a low, aching sound from deep in her chest. Even as she weeps she curls him in, greedy for the feel of the hitch of his chest and the stutter of his breathing, as if maybe he really had needed her as desperately as she'd needed him]

[Before very long at all, the hitching shoulders give way to outright sobs, low and harsh, each sounding as though it was wrenched from his throat - from his chest]

[Her shoulder is probably going to get wet,]

[His already is,]

[Regardless, tears are the least of her problems. Or perhaps for the first time in a while they're the biggest of them, since he's here--he's let her have this, even after everything she'd done already--so there's really little else she can do but hold him and cry, completely overwhelmed]

[He doesn't seem in a hurry to do much else, himself - just holds onto her, tight, like he's afraid she might disappear again if he lets go]

[Perhaps]

[For now, she only clings tight as if he might do the same.

She doesn't try to test the theory for a long time.]

[He doesn't seem likely to test it any time soon, either, though in time the sobs begin to soften to something less bone-deep - begin, eventually, to slow]

[Eventually they even fade to hiccups and sniffles.

And a while past that, she's even able to creak out words, barely more than a whisper]

...'M sorry. Never wanted to hurt you.

[His own voice is wobbly and soft, decidedly rough from crying]

...me neither.

S'messed up they made us.

[She swallows, thick. Surely this isn't all the fault of the game]

[...But, maybe the game played a part as well]

[.........Slowly, she nods against his chest, hesitant]

[His hand comes up, gentle, to rest on her hair - to stroke through it, careful]

[A long moment, passes, and then another, and he presses a soft kiss to the crown ofher head]

[She sags back against him, managing another few quiet snuffles]

...S-sorry I was gone for so long.

[His voice is soft and unsteady and painfully earnest]

I'm just glad you're here now.

[She shudders into his shoulder, tears slipping down her cheeks once more]

H-how are you still so good? After--after everything?

[The motion of his hand in her hair doesn't slow, though he ducks his head, as though self-conscious]

I mean... I dunno about that. I'm just, like - doing the best I can. Same as anyone.

Your best is way better'n most people's.

[She presses closer, feeling for his heartbeat, as if in the hopes it might keep her crying under control]

H-how come you don't never get mad...or worse?

[His heartbeat is strong and steady, there beneath her hand]

You ain't never done nothing for me to get mad over.

[Her fingers curl in closer]

I-I left you...

[He curls her in a little closer, in turn]

I know how it is, after games. If you need space, you need space.