[It's a form of contact that has him blink at her, as though surprised by it, somehow. And from there, the feelings became more muddled: caution, uncertainty, grief- perhaps even a trace of gratitude, somewhere.
Could he pull himself back together? Almost certainly; he'd managed similar feats. Considering the frequency of his despair, he'd had to. But did he want to? Not particularly.
And really... going along and pretending he'd be fine (insofar as he ever was) wouldn't be pleasant for anyone, nor convincing. And- in a way, would be much the same as retreating in anger. A different sort of withdrawal. Neither would be productive.]
--Let's head back. We can try somewhere in town another day.
[Said as he, very lightly, squeezes back at her fingers.]
no subject
Could he pull himself back together? Almost certainly; he'd managed similar feats. Considering the frequency of his despair, he'd had to. But did he want to? Not particularly.
And really... going along and pretending he'd be fine (insofar as he ever was) wouldn't be pleasant for anyone, nor convincing. And- in a way, would be much the same as retreating in anger. A different sort of withdrawal. Neither would be productive.]
--Let's head back. We can try somewhere in town another day.
[Said as he, very lightly, squeezes back at her fingers.]