Wynter felt someone was lifting her upper body off the table but did not know who it was, or wouldn't want to know. She had lost sense of her surroundings as her heart grieved from the loss. That, someone, was also whispering something to her ears that wasn't registering to her mind.
She felt a warm body being pressed to her and a hand slowly caressing her hair. It was bringing a little comfort in a way, so she sought that warmth. She cried in Keith's arms, and the latter only hushed as he patted her head.
Keith was frowning. Every sound that escaped her ruby lips was like a dagger puncturing his chest. It was both unpleasant and annoying to hear. Unpleasant because he felt his heart being stabbed by something, and annoying for the fact that she shouldn't cry.
Wynter isn't supposed to cry.
