(Oh, no. When he starts to cry in her arms, Lucretia doesn't say anything, doesn't offer words of comfort. For starters, she wouldn't know what to say; and she can tell that this- whatever it is- is fragile, tenuous. Seems like he needs it, though.
So she just holds him, keeps rubbing her hand on his back, nice and easy. It's almost too much in the face of everything that has been going on between them lately, but having him here with her feels like home, always will and she's missed that dreadfully.)
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So she just holds him, keeps rubbing her hand on his back, nice and easy. It's almost too much in the face of everything that has been going on between them lately, but having him here with her feels like home, always will and she's missed that dreadfully.)