andhiswife | (Reply)

It's all Sam can do not to wrap his arm around her shoulders as they walk, less because of any physical instinct and more because she seems to need it. Whatever is wrong, whatever has her in this state, she seems to be more than a little rattled, and until they're inside, he doesn't have the first idea what else he can do about it. He can't be sure that it would do any good, though, so he suppresses the impulse, just keeping close beside her, hoping that it might help at least a little for her to know that he's here if she needs him to be. She may have been radio silent for a while, but he's beginning to suspect now that it isn't just because she's been busy and it isn't personal. Something else is going on here; he just doesn't know what. When she'd startled in his apartment, looking out the window that afternoon, at least the effect of it had seemed to be short-lived. She'd caught her breath a few moments later, and things had gone back to normal. This is another matter entirely, and he can't help but worry for it.

Getting inside is something of a relief, then, and he takes a deep breath, nodding when she speaks, in spite of his own following words. "There's nothing to be sorry for," he promises, frowning slightly as he looks at her, uncertain and concerned and not knowing what to do with any of it. All he can do, he supposes, still, is be here, now that he knows there's anything to be here for at all. "Are you... Do you want to talk about it?"