"Second worst, maybe, but definitely not the worst.” He huffed out a breath, almost a laugh, and nodded before swallowing. “Yeah, of course.” The ‘you can tell me anything' went unspoken, though it was sincere. Not anyone could tell someone everything, not really. Well, most people.
When she started to speak, he chest clenched. He, along with everyone else, was guilty of that. He’d put her on a pedestal, had found out all the little things no one else had known and had just used that to build the base a little stronger. Of course, he’d learned. As he’d gotten to actually know who she was, he’d scraped at that massive mess of expectations and fantasies. Who she was deserved to be seen without the rose-tinted glasses. And yes, she deserved for any expectations anyone had about her, about how she should react to so much loss, to just step the hell back.
"You’re not gonna lose me." It was the quickest, easiest assurance he could give her, because it was the one he had some control over. The rest — "You can survive," he said finally. "And you’re not on your own. I get that it feels like you are, but you’re not." He shook his head, just a little, not wanting to jar her. He shifted an arm, just to keep her a little closer. "You don’t owe anyone anything and what they expect doesn’t matter."
