[color=ed1c24][h3]Angel Ferrara[/h3][/color]

He nearly hugged her.

He was in the process of one. His face had softened past even the point of his usual gentle androgyny, and his right arm was raised to slip around Cyare's shoulders if need be. But then his arm crooked over again to fix his own wet hair, playing off the motion. Like it'd never happened.

One of the first things he had learned from the world is that people don't want hugs as much as you might think. And that sadness, when someone presents a target by getting too close, can lash out as something else entirely. Then it just went back and forth and...

...

Angel wanted to say something to Cyare about that, apologize back to her for shying away from her so much.

But it would take too long to explain.

[color=ed1c24]"You're okay. You couldn't have known, honest. No sweat, okay?"[/color]