A week has gone by since the death of his mother and with each passing day, the grief increasingly consumed him.

Scara barely makes it out of bed—self-care, nonexistent—as he tries to deal with the overwhelming emotions he used to bury in the deepest part of his soul.

His struggling worried you, and you’re in ability to lessen his pain clawed at your heart. So, you provided undivided support.

Pitying him and giving your condolences would only further drive him away from you, and he couldn’t lose the only other person he’s able to rely on as well.

Instead, you allowed silence to do the talking—quietly aiding him without notice. At least until he reluctantly asked for your presence.

Having you by his side on his bed is surprisingly comfortable, and he can’t help but desperately yearn for your soothing touch and voice.

"Keep talking, just keep talking please…"

He finally falls apart in your arms, burying his head in your neck and letting himself succumb to sadness.