James fought hard to calm himself, but whenever he tried, he'd picture her grinning or her scolding him for not taking off his shoes at the foyer or halfheartedly yelling at him over the phone when he hadn't called in a month. Crying into Nate caused him to lose track of time, not that he'd had a grip on it the past day and a half anyway. After he'd emailed his absence notice to his professors yesterday, it all just seemed to blur into light blue and then dark blue hues. Finally building up enough strength (or losing it all, he couldn't tell which) to end the sobs, he took a deep calming breath, chest heaving as his lungs filled with much needed oxygen.
When Stark pulled away from Nate, it was only to press their foreheads together. He placed his hands on either side of the opposing man's face and met his eyes. "Thanks for being here." A short pause. "Will you stay?" He knows the answer, deep down in the pit of his everything he knows, but he's isn't thinking right. He isn't trying to think much because right now, in this state, thinking will only lead to pain and he doesn't want that. He wants to go and spill all his stories to G-Ma and watch as she just grins and sips her tea and smiles along with him, but he can't. And Christ, that fucking hurts.