The shiny is crying, deep, heaving sobs that change his face and interrupt his shaken breathing. They’re huddled together in a closet where he came to hide, stifling his anguish against the walls and hoping they would be inconsequential enough to be overlooked.
The shiny draws in a tired, shivering breath, and lifts a fragile hand to his eyes. “I’m so tired of being strong.”
He dissolved into tears again, and Rex cradled the shiny’s head against his chest and wrapped his arm tighter around his shoulders and resisted the urge to say, Me too.
Projecting? Not at all.
Things aren't always going to work out as we hope. Our emotions won't always be in our control. Take care of yourself when you need it.
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