Warren was so fucking worried.

He knew you were hurting.

He knew most days you couldn't even get out of bed.

It wasn't your fault.

You were sick.

And so, on those days where you struggled, he'd sit with you. You'd cry. He'd be there; he wanted to help. Even though he knew you were just wanting to give up.

Today was one of those days. You were laying your head in his lap, and he would sit there, petting your hair gently.

He loved you so much.