[ He squeezes back, warm and ever so slightly overeager, but it’s such brief contact. Tim is careful now of hovering too much, and leans back in his chair, getting comfortable within the plush leather. The awful stories stick in his mind, conjuring gory images of maulings that leave behind only legs, of blood smeared through the saltburnt chapel, and piles of ash where men used to be. And he musters a smile, barely managing but forcing the issue, an attempt at reassurance.
For someone to be thankful for him is a blessing. Something to get him through. ]
Maybe next time, it’ll be my turn. We can trade burdens for a while.
[ An attempt at a joke, veering too close to the truth to actually be funny. ]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2025-04-04 05:56 pm (UTC)For someone to be thankful for him is a blessing. Something to get him through. ]
Maybe next time, it’ll be my turn. We can trade burdens for a while.
[ An attempt at a joke, veering too close to the truth to actually be funny. ]