In Desperate Need of a Hug [Open]

Sam didn't know what to do with himself, in the face of so much grief and pain. He had had a brief week of happiness in the murky waters of his life then been dragged back down by the current, was choking as his lungs filled with water. He didn't know what to do, so he worked. Taking books on mythology and lore from the shelves he began to make notes for the tome he would make from them. Notes of heroes, villains, creatures, places-- Remi had looked at him with such anger, such coldness in his eyes. Had looked as if he wanted nothing more than to never see Sam again-- He curled the end of a large 'L' into the shape of a flower, doodling ideas for the illumination of the text. This was for a chapter where a lost hero found himself in a garden that thrived, breathed around him-- Isla and Ronin, two people who had been kind to him, were dead. The guilt he felt about his inability to really access his grief was blinding, intoxicating-- What kind of leather would he use for the cover? The softer stuff bent into shape easier, but the tougher lasted longer-- Remi--   Longnight-- Ludo-- Evie-- Sam pushed the book away from himself quickly as the first of his tears hit the ink and bloomed out into a star of dark blue, staining the page. With a shaking hum of defeat, he put his hands to his face and gave in to the waves, crying at the table with no thought to anyone else in the Atheneum. Samuel I'm starting to wake from silent sleep I'm starting to break and I can grieve