[It's been a nightmare. The last few months, full of nightmares and feelings of helplessness, the bloody tissues and the piercing headaches, the fear of something too big and too dangerous hanging over his head. The quiet fear of losing the respect or trust of people he'd come to love — in one case, genuinely fearing the loss of friendship with the person who means the most to him.
He doesn't want any hugs. Or kisses. Or words of affirmation.
Only he does, and he turns quietly to hug her around the middle and bury his face in her shirt — and he would really, really appreciate it if she didn't take any notes aloud about the way his shoulders shake, or the way he quietly cries, muffled against her, leaving warm spots to seep through to her skin.
He'd just. Really appreciate if it never left this little curtain-masked make-shift room.]
no subject
He doesn't want any hugs. Or kisses. Or words of affirmation.
Only he does, and he turns quietly to hug her around the middle and bury his face in her shirt — and he would really, really appreciate it if she didn't take any notes aloud about the way his shoulders shake, or the way he quietly cries, muffled against her, leaving warm spots to seep through to her skin.
He'd just. Really appreciate if it never left this little curtain-masked make-shift room.]