soft, quiet crying with zayne. nothing dramatic, no sobs, just tears welling up in your eyes and dripping down your cheeks with soft sniffles. sitting on his lap, facing him, your face buried in the point between his neck and shoulder. weakly gripping at the back of his sweatshirt while your tears soak into the fabric.
he doesn't say anything, but he doesn't need to say anything. he knows what you need right now isn't words, it's his presence. so he holds you against him, slowly stroking the palm of his hand up and down your spine beneath your shirt. his affection keeps you secure, stops the negative spiral from taking over your mind.
you listen to the calming, steady rhythm of his breaths, familiar and grounding to you after so much time spent in his presence. you hear the soft sound of his skin against yours, barely audible yet still there in the stillness of this moment with him. his body keeps you warm, staving off the chill that often comes when dealing with these things alone.
it takes a while, but your tears eventually slow, soothed by his endless patience and the calm he always brings with him when he enters a space. you know you can rely on him to be rational, a constant presence in your life who can bring you back down to earth when you panic or begin to overthink. he's logical and intelligent, examining things with a thoroughness that you've never found in anyone else.
he doesn't rush you, even once the tears stop. if you feel the need to cry again, he holds you through it. if you simply wish to rest in his lap for a while longer, he won't complain. your trust and vulnerability are precious to him, and he wouldn't trade them for anything.
