[she's at the right height that she can turn and hide her face fully in his chest, taking a deep breath to try and be steady. she's cried so much that she wonders if it's possible to overdo it - her eyes sting yet again, but she's breathing, her arms wrapped tight around him. there has to be so much faith that they'll come back, that there's a reason for all of this, but right now everything feels the way an empty metal chest might - hollow, cold, liable to fall apart with tears rusting the hinges.
even if she trembles some, she doesn't feel terribly afraid of judgement right now, of being seen as childish. she can fall apart at least a little, and it's okay. that protection comes through, like Helena's wrapped up in a warm blanket, shielded temporarily from things that want to pry the self apart.
there is so, so much that is terribly unfair. it is so, so hard to remain strong in all of it.
hopefully he understands that thank you doesn't always need to be spoken.]
[It's alright, because he couldn't possibly see her as a child right now. He recalls holding all of his brothers in his arms, with his wings too, when they all Fell. If crying is childish, then back then, they were the biggest children of all.
Soothingly, he runs a hand through her hair. She can cry as much as he needs, stain his shirt with tears, he doesn't mind one bit.
Loss sucks. He gets it.]
You'll be okay. [He murmurs, for lack of anything else to say.] Even if it's not now.
[Maybe that's not quite accurate. Hurt never lessens, one just gets used to it after a time. In a sense, that might just be the very definition of "okay".]
[those words crack open what she thought was a dam, tears returned in full from where they had been. she'd thought she could manage this, but she can't, and all fear of judgement is washed away in salt water. Helena cries, because okay is the furthest thing from her right now, and it feels like the world wants to crack away. there's no time limit to okay. her face is hidden in his shirt, tears soaking the fabric, and she knows the reason why.
she just wants them back here. even if it's for a reason. she just wants them back.
at a point, she quiets, and she's not shaking. her face, she knows, must be a mess - she can feel how crying leaves one feeling hot and drained, scrubbed raw as if with flannels on the inside. but no more tears want to come for now, and when she pulls back some, it's to try and use her sleeves to wipe the teartracks away.]
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no subject
even if she trembles some, she doesn't feel terribly afraid of judgement right now, of being seen as childish. she can fall apart at least a little, and it's okay. that protection comes through, like Helena's wrapped up in a warm blanket, shielded temporarily from things that want to pry the self apart.
there is so, so much that is terribly unfair. it is so, so hard to remain strong in all of it.
hopefully he understands that thank you doesn't always need to be spoken.]
no subject
Soothingly, he runs a hand through her hair. She can cry as much as he needs, stain his shirt with tears, he doesn't mind one bit.
Loss sucks. He gets it.]
You'll be okay. [He murmurs, for lack of anything else to say.] Even if it's not now.
[Maybe that's not quite accurate. Hurt never lessens, one just gets used to it after a time. In a sense, that might just be the very definition of "okay".]
no subject
she just wants them back here. even if it's for a reason. she just wants them back.
at a point, she quiets, and she's not shaking. her face, she knows, must be a mess - she can feel how crying leaves one feeling hot and drained, scrubbed raw as if with flannels on the inside. but no more tears want to come for now, and when she pulls back some, it's to try and use her sleeves to wipe the teartracks away.]