i'm still not sure what i stand for
He hears the sob, and he doesn't make any motion of acknowledging it, too lost, consumed by his own emotions. It wasn't meant to be like this - he wasn't meant to be like this. He was meant to be the one comforting, the one offering words of reassurance and solace, of making sure those he cared about were safe.But he'd already failed at that, hadn't he?
It wasn't so much a flinch as a stiffening of the muscles across his back and shoulders as Amalia reached out to touch him. He didn't pull away from the touch - gods, when was the last time he'd been touched, held, embraced?
And so he leaned into it instead, lifting his head with great effort, blinking back the tears that had sprung up behind his icy gaze to look upon her again. Some semblance of tired gratitude and understanding was on his face now, as he reached for the hand she rested upon his shoulder, giving it a squeeze.
"You don't have to," he said softly, before sighing deeply. He'd heard the story, or parts of it, from Deimos, and Loren. "But…" he hesitated, shaking his head lightly. "I loved her, Amalia. I want you to know that. I didn't get to tell her before."
His gaze had moved down, his focus somewhere on his feet, before a swell of emotion not originating from him rose up - Auni, ever present, crooning a soft sound at his side.
why don't we break the rules already?
CHULANE
