[He understands, before Rhy explains anything, the howling hunger for any reassurance that you are not alone. Not despite his own failure to convince himself of much the same, but because of it.
So Wilhelm provides what he would crave if the situation were reversed. Fitting himself to Rhy's side, he loops his arm around his middle and folds their heads together, cheek resting against hair. With his other hand he soothes Rhy's knee, fingers making little patterns like made-up runes to ward off his sadness. He doesn't mind the ambling small talk that usually exhausts him. No detail seems too unimportant to Rhy, though he suspects it's not the details that matter so much, just the unbroken cadence of his voice.
When the bottle is empty, and Rhy opens up, he listens. He asks no questions, just murmurs little words of consolation here and there. Strokes his hair, squeezes his hand.
They can stay like this for as long as Rhy needs. Wilhelm has nowhere else to be.]
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So Wilhelm provides what he would crave if the situation were reversed. Fitting himself to Rhy's side, he loops his arm around his middle and folds their heads together, cheek resting against hair. With his other hand he soothes Rhy's knee, fingers making little patterns like made-up runes to ward off his sadness. He doesn't mind the ambling small talk that usually exhausts him. No detail seems too unimportant to Rhy, though he suspects it's not the details that matter so much, just the unbroken cadence of his voice.
When the bottle is empty, and Rhy opens up, he listens. He asks no questions, just murmurs little words of consolation here and there. Strokes his hair, squeezes his hand.
They can stay like this for as long as Rhy needs. Wilhelm has nowhere else to be.]