Noah Olson We all want something to hold in the night We don't care if it hurts or we're holding too tight
Even though Noah was exhausted, both from the long hours of trying to settle things down enough for people to breathe in the aftermath of the battle and the emotions that weighed him down from the loss of his friends and the devastation to his home city. It all felt like too much to hold, and so he let pieces of it fall around him. His eyes, full of sympathy and mourning, stayed fixed on Morgan as she barely recognized his presence at first. If he had a closer relationship to the Captain, he would have reached out to embrace her, to hold her safe and steady in his arms. But he did not know her well, so he kept his arms at his sides. She went on to speak, and Noah merely listened. He could feel the lump at the bottom of his throat, the one that seemed to never leave. It formed hours ago, and was taking up residence within him. He swallowed it down, hard, blinking away any tears that might threaten to wash over his icy eyes. Noah did not personally think it a weakness to cry, but he knew that so many other people did. He had watched his father cry when he felt strong emotion--sadness, happiness, everything in between--and he took after his father so much that is startled some older Halovians as the Olson continued to age and form towards his father, even without his influence for almost more than a decade now. "We all know that this world is unforgiving. The ice takes no prisoners and it does not forget. The men and women in your guard were brave, and we will honor their lives with out own bravery." Even if he did not know what it looked like yet, Noah would stand by his statement. |
