[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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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.]