Laboratory Beta
If she hadn’t moved her hands, he likely would have dislodged them soon enough as he curled in on himself, legs drawing up, turning slightly so that he could drag his knees to his chest without driving a wedge between the pair. One arm hugged his legs to him, the other still had its fist occupied with holding his mouth shut, Aurelie’s hand placed lightly on top of it. He scrunched up, whimpering and making muffled hiccuping sounds as tears streamed down his cheeks and his nose began to run. The handkerchief couldn’t have gone far, either lost somewhere between them or having slithered onto the floor but he didn’t have the presence of mind to hunt for it. Instead, he tilted, practically falling towards the passive woman who tried to reach out to him in his despair. He sought to set his head down on her, mindless and driven by instinct as a child sought their mother to hold and comfort them when they were wounded, whether physically or emotionally. If she didn’t try to shove him off then he’d more than likely settle against her shoulder although his messy blond hair could easily be guided to her breast or into her lap if she were so inclined. Once he found somewhere to rest his head, he’d begin to bawl in earnest.
His body was rocked with his grief, while form shaking and shuddering as the pain poured out of him. It wasn’t as if his was the first time he’d cried — far from it — but there always seemed to be more tears, a bottomless well of them, more always managing to rise up from some hidden depths even when he should have been cried out, when there should have been no more tears to sob. Yet most of them had been spent while he was alone, a terrible lonely sorrow that only he could experience. Niamh had tried but even when he’d cried in her arms, it hadn’t been enough and he’d inevitably shoved her away, unable to find the comfort in her that he needed. They’d been close in their youth, he’d been like a mother to him when his own had distanced herself from him but the intervening years had marred that so that her touch always felt a little alien, no doubt aided by the strength, size and order of her field. When he was choked by mourning, the last thing he needed was the living vibrancy of the mona to smother him.
The young man cried for what felt like an eternity but was probably only minutes, his face growing tight as the salt worked its mischief on his skin, making it grow blotchy and puffy. His eyes ached and stung, wanting to squint them shut against the light in the room but it did nothing to stem the tears that spilled out from under the lids — not that he could keep them closed for long. When it began to recede like the tide going out — and sure to return — he was reduced to sniffling, finding that he’d unfurled a little, left in a looser foetal position as he’d stopped clasping his knees and had instead done his best to hug Aurelie around the waist. As the waves of pain diminished and the ability to think returned to him, the teenager was left feeling self-conscious and embarrassed, frightened to see wet patches on her uniform from when he’d unthinkingly sought support in her embrace. He made an attempt to mumble an apology but the syllables came out too wet and incoherent so he was left to sniffle some more, wiping at his face, aware that he was more than a little disgusting right now.
“I’m sorry. Y-Y-You didn’t need this,” he managed, trusting his voice at last, although it was still quite thick. Despite his apology, he felt reluctance to move, weary but peaceful where he was. “Some conversationalist I am, worth sod all,” he joked weakly, a faint chuckle escaping him.
The youth fell silent for a few moments, quietly assessing how he felt now. Fionn felt drained, a bit tremulous although now his limbs felt heavy instead of light. Strangely enough, the young man thought that he’d be able to sleep now if he allowed himself, crying having taken a great deal out of the boy.
“I feel better though. Thank you, Aura,” he admitted finally, a faint smile on his lips. He sighed, well aware that he needed to move. It wasn’t like Aurelie wanted him soaking her forever. He might not be sobbing anymore but the flow of tears hadn’t stopped entirely and his nose... gods, he needed to stop being so disgusting, he was as bad as a child.