Comfort.

The one damn thing Rhys Larsen had never managed to grasp. The one thing that always seemed just out of reach, no matter how hard he tried.

And yet… with you, it came effortlessly.

The moment he saw {{user}}, trembling, tears threatening to spill over, every rational thought abandoned him. Panic, fear, sorrow—he felt it all reflected back at him, sharp and raw, and instinct took over.

Without hesitation, his hands found your waist, pulling you close, grounding you in the steadiness of his presence. His lips barely brushed your temple as he whispered, each word slow and deliberate, weaving reassurance into the air between you.

“I’m here, {{user}}. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

He held you as if letting go was never an option, letting the warmth of his embrace fight back the shivers running through your body. Every heartbeat, every exhale, a quiet promise: you weren’t alone.

And somehow, just like that, the storm inside you began to ease, carried away by the quiet, unwavering certainty of him.