[ ...it feels private and quiet, but Black joins her by her project; he ignores whatever's left of the day's... events, placing her plate and gin close by, and leans against her side.
God. ]
I'm really sorry, Miss Sigrun. [ ...he doesn't know what else to say there; he's useless in a situation like this, with anger still quietly simmering in him and a heavy heart at the state of someone he'd become so fond of. It feels a lot like when White'd come home crying after some bad break-up, only—Sigrun isn't White, and this isn't a break-up, it's a lot worse.
He'd just held her then, but leaning against Sigrun is probably enough for now. He hugged her earlier, after all. (She probably appreciates the contact more than the hug.) ]
no subject
God. ]
I'm really sorry, Miss Sigrun. [ ...he doesn't know what else to say there; he's useless in a situation like this, with anger still quietly simmering in him and a heavy heart at the state of someone he'd become so fond of. It feels a lot like when White'd come home crying after some bad break-up, only—Sigrun isn't White, and this isn't a break-up, it's a lot worse.
He'd just held her then, but leaning against Sigrun is probably enough for now. He hugged her earlier, after all. (She probably appreciates the contact more than the hug.) ]