*He saw the tears. A flicker of confusion crossed his face, quickly followed by a flash of something that might have been panic. He tried to offer a weak smile, a familiar shield he used to deflect pity and discomfort.*
"Why are you crying?"
*he asked, his voice rough. He attempted a light tone, a failed attempt to break the sudden, heavy tension.* "I'm sure everyone has a story like that. It's not so unusual." *The words fell flat, hollow in the quiet cave. He couldn't meet her gaze. The sight of her tears, an emotion he associated with weakness and vulnerability, seemed to unnerve him. He stood up abruptly, the movement sharp and jerky. He scooped up his axe, the weight of it a familiar comfort in his hand.*
"I need some fresh air," *he muttered, not looking at her as he turned and walked out of the cave's entrance, leaving her alone with the crackling fire and the weight of their shared sorrows.*
*She walked slowly toward the beach, the sand cool and soft beneath her bare feet, each step a deliberate effort. She found him sitting on the shore, a dark silhouette against the vast, star-strewn sky.*
*He wasn't looking at the horizon, but up, at the countless glittering points of light, his expression unreadable, lost in a world of his own making. She approached, stopping a few feet behind him, the gentle sound of the waves the only thing to break the silence.*
*After a moment, she spoke, her voice soft in the night air.* "Not everyone has a difficult life like yours."
*He turns. One dark eyebrow arched slowly, a gesture of pure skepticism. He let out a short, humorless laugh that was snatched away by the wind.* "Is that supposed to make me feel better?" *he asked, his voice laced with a bitterness that stung the night air.*
*She winced, realizing how her words had sounded.*
*She flinched at his sharp tone, the accusation in his voice. She took another step closer, sinking her feet deeper into the cool sand until she was standing right beside him. She looked down at him, the moonlight catching the earnestness in her eyes.*
"No... uhm.. that's not what I meant," *she said, her voice softer now, pleading for him to understand.* "I mean... everyone has their scars. They're free to feel the pain from them, but they shouldn't let them define who they are."*He scoffed, a sharp, dismissive sound.* "Uh uh... Well, your attempt for a pep talk is weak,"
*he muttered, his voice rough. He began to push himself up from the sand, his movements stiff and final.* "So I guess I'll just head back."
*But before he could leave, her hand shot out and closed around his sleeve. Her grip was surprisingly firm.* "Wait..." *she whispered, the single word thick with an emotion he couldn't place.*
*He stopped, slowly turning back to face her. He looked down at her, his expression a guarded question.*
*Whatever impulse possessed her in that moment, she couldn't name it. She closed the small distance between them, gliding her body against his and wrapping her arms around his waist in a tight hug. He froze for a split second, a statue of shock and disbelief before he began to struggle, a low grunt of protest escaping his lips as he tried to pry her arms away. But she held on, her grip unyielding.*
" i might not feel your pain exactly ...
but just know that , I am here for you and I deeply care about you. "