All the tears fell down Erika's face. Every single one.
Erika slowly became dimly aware that she had stopped registering everything that was happening around them. The bustle of the center was falling on deaf ears. They could only hear the stifled voice that was lifting from in front of her. At some point she had stopped walking. It was only when she took in a sharp, staggering breath that she realized that she had stopped breathing for a moment. It was an empathetic slam to the chest, as if something had ripped in and tightened an icy hand around her heart. She closed her eyes and all she could smell was fire and a nauseatingly burnt sweetness. Her stomach churned and she felt cold.
His leaves were... The meanings to his actions were suddenly crystal clear.
She wanted to shake Red for not telling her sooner. Shake herself for not visiting him sooner. Have this scenario go any other way where she could have possibly done something for him, but at the moment she couldn't come up with a single one where she could have been of any use.
Words were failing her. Erika moved around the chair, standing in front of him. The sleeves of her kimono brushed over him like blankets as she reached out and took his hands in hers. She simply held them for a moment, brushing somewhat calloused thumbs across his knuckles. Somewhere she knew the action was hardly comforting. He was looking for some sort of confirmation from her, and her silence wasn't helping, but honestly she just didn't know what to say quite yet.
Re: Morning, Sunday the 19th
All the tears fell down Erika's face. Every single one.Erika slowly became dimly aware that she had stopped registering everything that was happening around them. The bustle of the center was falling on deaf ears. They could only hear the stifled voice that was lifting from in front of her. At some point she had stopped walking. It was only when she took in a sharp, staggering breath that she realized that she had stopped breathing for a moment. It was an empathetic slam to the chest, as if something had ripped in and tightened an icy hand around her heart. She closed her eyes and all she could smell was fire and a nauseatingly burnt sweetness. Her stomach churned and she felt cold.
His leaves were... The meanings to his actions were suddenly crystal clear.
She wanted to shake Red for not telling her sooner. Shake herself for not visiting him sooner. Have this scenario go any other way where she could have possibly done something for him, but at the moment she couldn't come up with a single one where she could have been of any use.
Words were failing her. Erika moved around the chair, standing in front of him. The sleeves of her kimono brushed over him like blankets as she reached out and took his hands in hers. She simply held them for a moment, brushing somewhat calloused thumbs across his knuckles. Somewhere she knew the action was hardly comforting. He was looking for some sort of confirmation from her, and her silence wasn't helping, but honestly she just didn't know what to say quite yet.