[ all he does to that is scoff, which is not the reaction that sweet and wonderful rupert deserves. because it is his fault. what sort of a noble can't protect his own?
his tattoo, that ugly black ink mess, curls over his shoulder again. Broke his promise. ]
.... eventually, after a long moment, he - shakes his head. no. no, he doesn't. his foot jitters a little where he's sitting, the gesture just to shake energy free, and he rubs a hand over his face.
and after a longer pause, says, gruff, miserably: ] Sorry.
[ he shouldn't yell, is the thing. the hand on his face remains - fat, hot tears drip through his fingers, down his cheeks. frustration and exhaustion. ]
[he knows, but it doesn't seem too important to say that right now - instead, he looks towards the tears for another moment before shifting to put his arms around him. get hugged idiot!!!!]
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[hesitating for another moment, because there's not really anything he can say to make this better and he knows that, but at the very least:]
This wasn't your fault. Neither of them would think that.
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his tattoo, that ugly black ink mess, curls over his shoulder again. Broke his promise. ]
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Sorry, I - do you want space?
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.... eventually, after a long moment, he - shakes his head. no. no, he doesn't. his foot jitters a little where he's sitting, the gesture just to shake energy free, and he rubs a hand over his face.
and after a longer pause, says, gruff, miserably: ] Sorry.
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[sincerely!!]
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[ he shouldn't yell, is the thing. the hand on his face remains - fat, hot tears drip through his fingers, down his cheeks. frustration and exhaustion. ]
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She wouldn't blame you, either.