[ it isn't just the look in her eyes that gives away the "I'm at my brink and trying not to cry" condition she's got going on. something unspoken lingers between them; maybe it's some remnant of the empathic link they'd shared, or maybe it's something to do with wherever the hell they are right now - but he feels it, too. a squeeze of his chest, a sense of something rueful.
with her eyes closed, she won't see him unclasp and shrug his way out of his coat, draping it around her shoulders. it isn't much, but... well, it's warm, and it's something; he'll shift to sit side-by-side with her, a little space between them to give her some semblance of privacy. ...even if it isn't much.
he doesn't ask her for an explanation. it isn't the time; questions can come later. maybe the best thing he can give her right now is a few moments where she can just... sit, sort through what just happened, and grieve if she needs to. with some company, if that... helps, at all. ]
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with her eyes closed, she won't see him unclasp and shrug his way out of his coat, draping it around her shoulders. it isn't much, but... well, it's warm, and it's something; he'll shift to sit side-by-side with her, a little space between them to give her some semblance of privacy. ...even if it isn't much.
he doesn't ask her for an explanation. it isn't the time; questions can come later. maybe the best thing he can give her right now is a few moments where she can just... sit, sort through what just happened, and grieve if she needs to. with some company, if that... helps, at all. ]