Bit by bit, fatigue blankets his thoughts enough to slow down and force an order of priority. So when Sadie remains silent after he expresses how grateful he is to have one constant in his uphevealed life, his focus turns from the dark figures of the memory to the one with him in the moment. Bending his elbows, his encircling arms shift and curl in to embrace Sadie in a manner meant to comfort rather than clutch. One hand comes to rest at the back of a shoulder as the other slides further up to the back of her head to cradle her close.

She means so much to him, despite having only met her a year ago.

Calming further in the silence softened by the purring, his tears cease and his breathing evens out. Of course, when Sadie does finally speak again, it spurs a weak, single laugh from him, “Sadie, you don’t have to hit anyone... Unless they have torches and pitchforks.”