He didn’t realize the house was so cold. Not even layers of wool keep him warm like they ought to. 20022 presses close to his side, or, rather, he presses heavy into 20022 as he’s helped from the room. Even when they step into a smaller office, cozily appointed. Even when there’s a cup of hot tea pushed into his hands. Cold. 

He didn’t realize the house was so far from home. The plush chair welcomes this woolen lump like an old friend, the leather invitingly soft and textured beneath him. The tea is delicious. Refreshing. Sweet. A delightful herbal blend. He hugs his cup with one hand. 20022 holds his other, gently stroking with a steady rhythm. Two days separate him from two windows. Two days separate him from the world of her arms.

“What. Was that?” 

The words come out tight. Strained.

He didn’t realize he was shaking.