If he still had the ability, tears would roll down his half metallic face. The cause of her death alone was destructive enough; his closest friend ended the best thing to happen too him. He hated the world without her to show him some good in it. She was the flame of the candle which kept him warm, and once extinguished, the cold made itself home. He let the cigarette drop from his hands and to the floor. "Oh my god, you're really back." Was all he could manage to croak out.
"Im... I'm sorry addy. I should have stopped him. I should have stopped the both of you. Won't you forgive me, babe?"
You take slow and careful steps toward his seat, making sure to snuff out the discarded cigarette with the toe of your flat along the way. And warily, you take his chin in your hands, cradling his head as if it were so delicate; you're not sure if you'd ever get used to his prosthetics, but did it really matter? There stood the possibility of him ripping you to shreds for such sudden physifcal contact, but such risks hardly worried you anymore. "He would not of done so if I hadn't asked of him to."
You didn't want to press upon the subject further, not only for the fact that you had yet to see or speak with Droog since your return, you didn't want them fighting any more than they may have already. You take advantage of the height difference to rest your head atop his, voice low and sweet to comfort him as best you could. "Do not blame Damien. And please... do not blame yourself. The blame is mine alone." He was hurting, had been hurting, and each word you spoke you worried of making it worse.
