[Ianthe rested her chin on the top of Alina's head as she held her tight. She was terrible at comfort beyond being a steady presence, so that's what she would be. No platitudes, no lies, no promises.
...she hated how Alina's tears made her chest hurt. She hated that a part of her wished she knew how Alina felt. She hadn't cried over Babs; it had never crossed her mind. He had been made for what she used him for, but she had been fond of him.
Ianthe stayed quiet, breathing slowly, steadily, and let Alina cry herself out.]
no subject
...she hated how Alina's tears made her chest hurt. She hated that a part of her wished she knew how Alina felt. She hadn't cried over Babs; it had never crossed her mind. He had been made for what she used him for, but she had been fond of him.
Ianthe stayed quiet, breathing slowly, steadily, and let Alina cry herself out.]