[ Her reassurance doesn't make all of his worry dissipate but it does lessen by a fraction, some of the pinch around his eyes relaxing. She re-settles again, giving his hands a little squeeze. He returns the motion, just liking the feel of her fingers in his. It gives him something to focus on as a background thing, as he sweeps his thumbs across the backs of her hands. Almost dispelling the nervous energy.
Almost, but not quite.
His attention is on her, though, as she starts talking again, working her way through what's a clearly difficult topic. Even if they haven't experienced the same things in their past, he can empathize with how hard it is. He's never been one to talk about his feelings, not easily at any rate. So he's patient through her start and stop, even if it feels like there's panic rising in the back of his throat.
It drops out momentarily when she gets to the heart of the matter–she's been reminded of someone in her past, someone who did her more harm than can be seen here. A man who'd stayed after his initial visits; whether he'd been lonely or perverse, it didn't matter. She was still feeling those impressions, waking up in the middle of the night with fear.
He swallows the initial sting because he knows it isn't personal. This is something she's working through, so soon in the wake of her escaping from that place. There's a memory floating to the top of how he felt directly after Rollins, after the flood. For a while he couldn't sleep with anything more than a sheet, a comforter too heavy and making him feel like he was drowning. Even after he'd been living with Sofia and Tomassen for a year, he'd still wake up in the middle of the night, disoriented. It would take him a few minutes to remember which room he was in (home, not his dead father's house, nor the temporary places he'd ended up).
So, he gently curls his arm around her shoulders, giving her as much of a hug as he can from this angle. ]
I'm not upset. [ Just so she knows that up front. ] What can I do?
[ If he needs to sleep elsewhere, that's do-able. Or if she needs a pillow division between them–whatever it is. ]
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Date: 2021-07-22 04:38 pm (UTC)Almost, but not quite.
His attention is on her, though, as she starts talking again, working her way through what's a clearly difficult topic. Even if they haven't experienced the same things in their past, he can empathize with how hard it is. He's never been one to talk about his feelings, not easily at any rate. So he's patient through her start and stop, even if it feels like there's panic rising in the back of his throat.
It drops out momentarily when she gets to the heart of the matter–she's been reminded of someone in her past, someone who did her more harm than can be seen here. A man who'd stayed after his initial visits; whether he'd been lonely or perverse, it didn't matter. She was still feeling those impressions, waking up in the middle of the night with fear.
He swallows the initial sting because he knows it isn't personal. This is something she's working through, so soon in the wake of her escaping from that place. There's a memory floating to the top of how he felt directly after Rollins, after the flood. For a while he couldn't sleep with anything more than a sheet, a comforter too heavy and making him feel like he was drowning. Even after he'd been living with Sofia and Tomassen for a year, he'd still wake up in the middle of the night, disoriented. It would take him a few minutes to remember which room he was in (home, not his dead father's house, nor the temporary places he'd ended up).
So, he gently curls his arm around her shoulders, giving her as much of a hug as he can from this angle. ]
I'm not upset. [ Just so she knows that up front. ] What can I do?
[ If he needs to sleep elsewhere, that's do-able. Or if she needs a pillow division between them–whatever it is. ]