[ The whole situation feels surreal, like a dream. He's almost afraid to move too much, like the illusion might collapse at any moment, like he'll wake up in the Underworld, under the throes of some other dream god's machinations. But she stands and stumbles forward like a fawn on her feet, tears streaming down her face, and Sisyphus' reservations fly out the window like so much dust.
He moves forward to catch her by the shoulders before she can fall over in her haste. He hates to see her cry. He reaches up to cup the side of her face in one of his hands, brushing some of the tears away with his thumb. ]
... It's alright. [ He opts for this instead, flipping his previous words around in an attempt to soothe her. ] Please, don't cry. I'm fine.
[ He takes one of her hands and presses it over his chest, over his heart, to reassure her. ]
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He moves forward to catch her by the shoulders before she can fall over in her haste. He hates to see her cry. He reaches up to cup the side of her face in one of his hands, brushing some of the tears away with his thumb. ]
... It's alright. [ He opts for this instead, flipping his previous words around in an attempt to soothe her. ] Please, don't cry. I'm fine.
[ He takes one of her hands and presses it over his chest, over his heart, to reassure her. ]