[ For the entirety of the time he edges his way back, Lottie is not thinking about him retrieving tissues. She sees it as him walking away and edging his way out of this conversation and she doesn't blame him β they aren't particularly close and she knows she doesn't look great. Sounds weird, sounds hurt. Like she can experience emotions so vividly it might put him off, and that's what she assumes. She clams up in the time it takes for him to grab those tissues and she's still tense, scared, as he eases himself down.
She releases a shaky breath, feels his fingertips against her skin and she's suddenly crying harder. Shaking, ever so slightly. There's a whine that sits at the back of her throat, one that just barely makes it as he shushes her. Tends to her 'wounds', her tears. He wipes them away and all she can do is look down towards his thighs, unsure if she should even look at him with how hard she's crying.
But then she feels the tissue touch at her nose, and she stills. Looks up at him instantly, the emotion in her eyes telling him that there's a good chance she might run away and hide. It's tense the seconds that follow, but in the end she gives in β brings a hand to grasp at his wrist as she blows her nose properly. An achey groan leaves her lips after, familiarity at the action taking over as she wipes her nose one final time.
And when she pulls away, the tips of her ears, her cheeks, and most importantly: her nose, are all tinged red. Half from her crying, her allergies, half from the fact somebody else is doing the job she has deemed dirty enough for only herself to take care of. And then she's crying again, soft tears tracking down her face, as she gently β timidly β reaches out towards his shirt to grasp at. ]
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She releases a shaky breath, feels his fingertips against her skin and she's suddenly crying harder. Shaking, ever so slightly. There's a whine that sits at the back of her throat, one that just barely makes it as he shushes her. Tends to her 'wounds', her tears. He wipes them away and all she can do is look down towards his thighs, unsure if she should even look at him with how hard she's crying.
But then she feels the tissue touch at her nose, and she stills. Looks up at him instantly, the emotion in her eyes telling him that there's a good chance she might run away and hide. It's tense the seconds that follow, but in the end she gives in β brings a hand to grasp at his wrist as she blows her nose properly. An achey groan leaves her lips after, familiarity at the action taking over as she wipes her nose one final time.
And when she pulls away, the tips of her ears, her cheeks, and most importantly: her nose, are all tinged red. Half from her crying, her allergies, half from the fact somebody else is doing the job she has deemed dirty enough for only herself to take care of. And then she's crying again, soft tears tracking down her face, as she gently β timidly β reaches out towards his shirt to grasp at. ]