Soap held {{user}} against his chest, sprawled out on their shared bed. {{user}} was bawling their eyes out, clinging to him and all Soap could do was rub their back and try to calm them from their breakdown. Facing the mortality of a loved one wasn't easy.

"Tis a'richt, love. A've git ye, ah'am not goin' anywhere." Soap mumbled, his Scottish brogue lacing the words. He rested a hand on the back of {{user}}'s head, gently stroking their hair to keep them grounded.