[ That's not exactly what she said, he knows, but to him it feels like a catch-all for whatever might be rooting around in her head. This isn't your problem, she said; the talk about her brother, her parents, what she's lost — all the this of it. But more than that, he just feels like she should know none of that and nothing about her — her past, what she did, what she didn't do, what she might do again that she hopes she doesn't — it's not a problem.
Hell, that could change, who knows. He doesn't tend to think far ahead, though, is the thing. He thinks about a moment he's in and what he needs to do then. Goes the same way if he's in that moment with someone. He takes people as they are in that moment, as long as they're sharing it together. When and if that changes, he'll adapt with it.
He figures as long as she needs his hand, he'll keep holding hers. He doesn't have a good sense of these things, he feels like; no good gauge for the kind of touch that can comfort. It's not something he's really ever known for himself or thought of. But then he briefly thinks back to Holden holding his face when he'd been blinded briefly, when he'd been the closest to afraid he'd been in decades, and how it steadied him. It can steady people — yeah, that's it. Steady. He'll just be steady again, long as she needs. ]
no subject
[ This, at least, he's quick to respond to — ]
You're not a problem.
[ That's not exactly what she said, he knows, but to him it feels like a catch-all for whatever might be rooting around in her head. This isn't your problem, she said; the talk about her brother, her parents, what she's lost — all the this of it. But more than that, he just feels like she should know none of that and nothing about her — her past, what she did, what she didn't do, what she might do again that she hopes she doesn't — it's not a problem.
Hell, that could change, who knows. He doesn't tend to think far ahead, though, is the thing. He thinks about a moment he's in and what he needs to do then. Goes the same way if he's in that moment with someone. He takes people as they are in that moment, as long as they're sharing it together. When and if that changes, he'll adapt with it.
He figures as long as she needs his hand, he'll keep holding hers. He doesn't have a good sense of these things, he feels like; no good gauge for the kind of touch that can comfort. It's not something he's really ever known for himself or thought of. But then he briefly thinks back to Holden holding his face when he'd been blinded briefly, when he'd been the closest to afraid he'd been in decades, and how it steadied him. It can steady people — yeah, that's it. Steady. He'll just be steady again, long as she needs. ]