It's a sight, the parade of expressions that crosses the offensively tall boy's face. First stricken and disbelieving, and then the obvious identity of the party in question sinks in and it twists into something that promises revenge--
--and then Mamoru's focus shifts abruptly back to the storm of raw-edged feelings bleeding off the girl in front of him, shifts to Makoto herself. There's nothing he can do to fix the problem, no, and the old familiar feeling of helplessness invades his soul.
But he gives what he can. He can't fix it, but he has sympathy in spades, and he can, if she lets him, take the edge off the pain.
It's a personal hurt, it's a heart-hurt. It's not the stinging whip of brutal fights and emotional flashbacks and despair-- the aftermath of those is guided by reflex. This is a decision. He'd already decided to intrude; Mamoru can't back out now, can't and won't leave Mako to deal with heartbreak alone.
Not a heartbreak he knows so very well.
Not rejection.
He sets the tea on the counter and takes a tall step forward, far enough to reach her and reach out, far enough to take her shoulders and pull her into a hug, fierce and wordless. He controls his own power as best he can, not wanting to take her tears away unless she wants him to. There's only the warmth and understanding, the sympathy and empathy spun into a furious tornado of knowing how Makoto feels and feeling it with her.
no subject
--and then Mamoru's focus shifts abruptly back to the storm of raw-edged feelings bleeding off the girl in front of him, shifts to Makoto herself. There's nothing he can do to fix the problem, no, and the old familiar feeling of helplessness invades his soul.
But he gives what he can. He can't fix it, but he has sympathy in spades, and he can, if she lets him, take the edge off the pain.
It's a personal hurt, it's a heart-hurt. It's not the stinging whip of brutal fights and emotional flashbacks and despair-- the aftermath of those is guided by reflex. This is a decision. He'd already decided to intrude; Mamoru can't back out now, can't and won't leave Mako to deal with heartbreak alone.
Not a heartbreak he knows so very well.
Not rejection.
He sets the tea on the counter and takes a tall step forward, far enough to reach her and reach out, far enough to take her shoulders and pull her into a hug, fierce and wordless. He controls his own power as best he can, not wanting to take her tears away unless she wants him to. There's only the warmth and understanding, the sympathy and empathy spun into a furious tornado of knowing how Makoto feels and feeling it with her.