CHULANE
Long arms embrace her, holding her to him, his need for her clear as he engulfs her in the breadth of his generous reach. He is like a child, clinging to the most familiar thing near him after feeling like so much has been taken away. A shaky breath fills his lungs as he presses his face into her neck, the scent of her hair filling him, relaxing him slightly. Enough so that another wave of sorrow can rock him, can crash through and disrupt this moment of peace.
Her reply has his breath hitching, a single sob racking his frame as he pressed his eyes tightly shut against her - he has barely looked at her, barely able to, so caught up in his own swell of emotions. Why did it affect him so? Weaver had not meant that much to him, surely, and yet his body cried at the unfairness of it, at the injustice of it all.
Perhaps her death was just the tipping point - maybe he had been this close to breaking all along.
Tears burned at the edges of his eyes, hot and wet, but no more sobs came - he simply stubbornly refused to fall deeper, how could he, when he had Kia holding him up. Her strength, her solidarity - he leaned his head against her shoulder, and he held her too in his strong embrace, inviting her to fall against him just as much as he fell against her.
He didn't know how much time passed, how long he just sat with her, but when he did eventually sit back up, his breathing was more controlled, more steady. He pressed a kiss to her cheek as he raised himself up again, murmuring a low and grateful "Thank you." With a small frown of concern, he lifted a hand to rest his palm against her cheek, as he finally looked at her.
"When's the last time you ate or drank? Or slept?" Genuine concern coloured his tones, as he guessed that her response would be similar to his own tale - too long.
Her reply has his breath hitching, a single sob racking his frame as he pressed his eyes tightly shut against her - he has barely looked at her, barely able to, so caught up in his own swell of emotions. Why did it affect him so? Weaver had not meant that much to him, surely, and yet his body cried at the unfairness of it, at the injustice of it all.
Perhaps her death was just the tipping point - maybe he had been this close to breaking all along.
Tears burned at the edges of his eyes, hot and wet, but no more sobs came - he simply stubbornly refused to fall deeper, how could he, when he had Kia holding him up. Her strength, her solidarity - he leaned his head against her shoulder, and he held her too in his strong embrace, inviting her to fall against him just as much as he fell against her.
He didn't know how much time passed, how long he just sat with her, but when he did eventually sit back up, his breathing was more controlled, more steady. He pressed a kiss to her cheek as he raised himself up again, murmuring a low and grateful "Thank you." With a small frown of concern, he lifted a hand to rest his palm against her cheek, as he finally looked at her.
"When's the last time you ate or drank? Or slept?" Genuine concern coloured his tones, as he guessed that her response would be similar to his own tale - too long.
The only true wisdom is in knowing
you know nothing
you know nothing
