He held her delicate and petite body, lifting his hand gently to stroke her long hair.
Her hair was a disheveled mess on her shoulders, like the fuzzy fur of a small animal, and the warmth of her tears and her body heat transferred from her chest to his heart, making him feel grounded.
He tightened his embrace slightly, his voice deep, "It's okay now, it's all right."
She was still crying, holding onto him without letting go.
Looking down at her fair side face, he chuckled silently, "There, there, stop acting spoiled."
Norris Moore lay in his arms, biting him hard.
It wasn't until her emotions had stabilized that Norris Moore lifted her head from his chest, her nose red.
She looked at his face, and tears uncontrollably fell again; reaching out her hand, she gently touched the wound on his face that had not yet scabbed and asked with a trembling voice, "Trenton Smith, how did you end up like this?"
His body was covered in wounds.
