His lack of eloquence would have made her smile in a different instance, the joke resting against her lips, a comment about the coherency of his statement. It was to be expected; something she’d experienced on numerous occasions, of him freezing when put on the spot, struggling to find the words to voice his thoughts. Her expression turned apologetic as she took the step towards him hesitantly, putting his journal down beside him, her arms winding around his waist to keep him steady. He had pushed her away once and she worried he would again, but it was her first instinct when seeing him this way.
The placement of the journal served as an offering, an out, if he needed the time or space to jot his thoughts down, the pages serving as his confidant. She was the person he would tell the most to, but she only ever knew a fraction of the sentences strung through the book’s pages. And for his sake, she’d learn to be okay with that, with not knowing till he was able to say whatever was in his head aloud. But it was a process and while she was trying, this felt like a conversation worth having, one in which she needed his input, needed to know where he stood.
“It’s..a lot,” she agreed, though the words weren’t said explicitly. “It’s a lot to consider and I..I didn’t mean to rush you. I just figured you’d have thoughts on it. We uh..we keep missing each other, it seems.” Her tone and diction were forgiving as she said the last sentiment, moving her arms around his middle, a hand rubbing against his back.
She did want to talk about it, but not like this, and if not this, then when or how? The options considered as the movement of her hand continued, the blonde holding him close.
He sighs, and it’s a mixed kind of sound. There’s exasperation: frustrated with the current situation, tired from late nights of questioning, worrying, considering how exactly to handle the way his world was changing. But there was relief as well. Minute relief at her setting his journal down, and great relief and feeling her arms wind around him. She was just… dependable. Someone he’d learned to lean on over the years. He couldn’t stand attempting to distance from her, or to reach out only to have the connection miss. He couldn’t lose her in translation. He depended on her far too heavily.
This time, he kisses the top of her head, and his arms find their way back around her, keeping her there tightly in his arms. It seems he needed a good hug after all, and can you blame him? If not the stress of their personal future, there’s the stress of everyone’s future, both inside and outside of these castle walls. There’s so much to set his teeth on edge, but leaning into her he can just relax. For the first time in months, he can be a little more at ease.
“I have thoughts on it.” He mumbles, comforted into more coherent wording, “My first one being I don’t like missing you. I don’t like having to miss you.” He clarifies, and tacks on a wry chuckle, a frown hidden behind her back inching slowly across his lips.