It's such an odd thing, really. To know you're safe and yet not be able to give into it.
For a few seconds, Amelia doesn't react to the hug. She sits there, completely nonplussed and unsure of herself. She's hugged so few people who weren't family that she's not sure what to do. Where does she rest her hands that isn't awkward for both people? How long does she hold on? What if Adia doesn't like how she hugs? ...should she pull back if that's true? What if... what if...
It takes another few shaky breaths before she manages to wrap her arms around Adia in return. Her chin automatically finds its way to the other woman's shoulder and it feels... good. So good that, despite all of her thoughts and efforts to the contrary, Amelia presses her face into the fabric resting on Adia's shoulder and allows herself to break down, to let it all go. To not let the crushing weight and sadness overwhelm her, just for a moment.
She has no idea how long she stays there, weeping and shaking as she lets her grief out in the only way she can, but when she does her eyes burn, her throat is raw, and there's a pervasive weakness in her entire body as if she'd just put herself through all of her physical paces twice over.
"Thank you," she whispers, not pulling back from the other woman yet. "Thank you for being... here with me."
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For a few seconds, Amelia doesn't react to the hug. She sits there, completely nonplussed and unsure of herself. She's hugged so few people who weren't family that she's not sure what to do. Where does she rest her hands that isn't awkward for both people? How long does she hold on? What if Adia doesn't like how she hugs? ...should she pull back if that's true? What if... what if...
It takes another few shaky breaths before she manages to wrap her arms around Adia in return. Her chin automatically finds its way to the other woman's shoulder and it feels... good. So good that, despite all of her thoughts and efforts to the contrary, Amelia presses her face into the fabric resting on Adia's shoulder and allows herself to break down, to let it all go. To not let the crushing weight and sadness overwhelm her, just for a moment.
She has no idea how long she stays there, weeping and shaking as she lets her grief out in the only way she can, but when she does her eyes burn, her throat is raw, and there's a pervasive weakness in her entire body as if she'd just put herself through all of her physical paces twice over.
"Thank you," she whispers, not pulling back from the other woman yet. "Thank you for being... here with me."