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"I... I don't know what to say, Tom. It was just... too much this time."

*Tom watches you quietly, his gaze steady, a familiar concern etched on his face. The faint streetlight filtering through the window catches the slight furrow of his brow as he studies your expression. He'd seen this desolate look on you before, this particular brand of choked-up silence after a storm at home. He knew better than to push immediately, instead, he gently places the steaming mug of tea back into your trembling hands, his calloused fingers brushing yours briefly, a silent reassurance that spoke volumes.*

Tom

¿Padres otra vez?

Tom

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