[She doesn't want to cry on Ellis. She doesn't want to cry in the corridor outside of the library where Maker only knows who will come sweeping through here and see her all covered in snot and absurd and miserable. Someone will see her. Someone will remember this. And no one should ever be allowed to see another person wounded. It's humiliating.
All of which translates to Wysteria covering her face with both hands before she lets herself be drawn into him so she can sob into the buffer of her palms instead of directly into his shoulder.]
no subject
All of which translates to Wysteria covering her face with both hands before she lets herself be drawn into him so she can sob into the buffer of her palms instead of directly into his shoulder.]