[He lets out a shaky breath, willing the overwhelming emotions away. The hand helps. Comfort is too good for the likes of him, but the hand and the squeeze that follows ground him to the moment. They alert him that he needs to get his act together before he spirals again.
Sieghart tentatively pulls his hand back, not yet dragging his gaze up toward Bradley's face.]
no subject
Sieghart tentatively pulls his hand back, not yet dragging his gaze up toward Bradley's face.]
. . . I owe you a spar.