[ Being greeted off the bat with a hug is unexpected, and it's an evident measure to him of how upset Tohsaka is. Whoever her "familiar" was, he must have meant a lot to her, for her to take his loss hard enough to break her usual composure. Maybe he can understand a little—though the man who, for him, had vanished from the hotel had been a dead man to begin with, his appearance so abrupt and fleeting that Tomura still has difficulty believing he hadn't been an illusion conjured by this wretched place. If all she wants for enduring this is a hug, he won't begrudge her that.
This much he can manage, having by now been primed for it by the amount of physical contact facilitated here, so despite the initial surprise, he relaxes into it. He curls his free arm around her back, holding her firm without replicating her squeeze, wordlessly letting her work out her distress against his body. What's the right thing to say or do for her? He only ever knows how to try and fix the issue—not talk someone past what maybe can't be fixed. Unbidden, the memory of his sister flashes through his mind; maybe Hana would've grown into the kind of person who always had the right words, who would know what to say in this situation. He'd always leaned on her for that. But here, all he has is himself and his presence. ]
Yeah.
[ Not knowing how long he'd be staying or what she'd want to do, he'd grabbed his Sw!tch as basic entertainment, just in case. Rather than hanging out in his hoodie pocket like usual though, he's wearing a T-shirt, and so the console had been tucked into the large pockets of his sweatpants. ]
Gonna let me go first?
[ There's a tinge of amusement to his tone, but with a warmth that verges on fond. If she doesn't release him, he'll awkwardly lean over and set down his pillowcase of stolen goods before scooping her up, one arm secured around her waist and the other looped beneath her backside, keeping her mostly upright for the short walk to her couch, which they can both collapse into. ]
[Perhaps it's not what Archer meant to her personally, but what he symbolized. He alone was her manifestation of the decade of work she had put into so that she may win the Holy Grail War. He was the man who answered her call, stood by her side, and "died" a second time so that she may live. Their connection, and the bond they shared, was the one that was supposed to help her fulfill her promise to her father.
And when she met him again they were like strangers. No — perhaps that wasn't right. They were both simply too cowardly to address the link between them. To reach out to each other and re-establish that connection. And for that, he's gone. Her fear of abandonment leaving her to be just that: abandoned. At least in her eyes.
She had been ready to start letting him go, but doesn't fight it when he scoops her up. In fact the sudden lift is validating in its own way. Archer had always taken it upon himself to scoop and lift and prop her up whenever he felt like it. The feeling is familiar in its own way, and somewhat soothing. Once they both settle into the couch, she reaches up to cup his face in her palm.]
Hey, [she speaks softly] thanks.
[The warmth and solidity of his body makes everything feel real — helps her feel grounded.]
[ It's easiest to settle down in a normal seated position, with Tohsaka either straddling him or sitting sideways. Though it seems she'd planned for him to play his games, he thinks he might be getting clung to for awhile... Not something he objects to, but he was about to get settled in for that when she reaches out to cup his face. With widened, inquisitive eyes, he mirrors her gaze, blinking when she thanks him.
For a moment, he isn't sure what to say. It's one thing to get thanked for passing the hot sauce; it's another to receive it when Tohsaka seems to truly want it to mean something. He struggles to meet that level of sincerity—dredging up the emotions that make it feel real is an exercise not much different than digging into the earth in hopes of reviving a fossil.
In the end, he nods, cocking his head. ]
Mm. It's nothing.
[ That much feels sincere to him. It doesn't really feel like she's asking for much, nor is he doing much to fulfill her requests. If this is all it takes to help her feel a little better, he doesn't mind at all. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
This much he can manage, having by now been primed for it by the amount of physical contact facilitated here, so despite the initial surprise, he relaxes into it. He curls his free arm around her back, holding her firm without replicating her squeeze, wordlessly letting her work out her distress against his body. What's the right thing to say or do for her? He only ever knows how to try and fix the issue—not talk someone past what maybe can't be fixed. Unbidden, the memory of his sister flashes through his mind; maybe Hana would've grown into the kind of person who always had the right words, who would know what to say in this situation. He'd always leaned on her for that. But here, all he has is himself and his presence. ]
Yeah.
[ Not knowing how long he'd be staying or what she'd want to do, he'd grabbed his Sw!tch as basic entertainment, just in case. Rather than hanging out in his hoodie pocket like usual though, he's wearing a T-shirt, and so the console had been tucked into the large pockets of his sweatpants. ]
Gonna let me go first?
[ There's a tinge of amusement to his tone, but with a warmth that verges on fond. If she doesn't release him, he'll awkwardly lean over and set down his pillowcase of stolen goods before scooping her up, one arm secured around her waist and the other looped beneath her backside, keeping her mostly upright for the short walk to her couch, which they can both collapse into. ]
no subject
And when she met him again they were like strangers. No — perhaps that wasn't right. They were both simply too cowardly to address the link between them. To reach out to each other and re-establish that connection. And for that, he's gone. Her fear of abandonment leaving her to be just that: abandoned. At least in her eyes.
She had been ready to start letting him go, but doesn't fight it when he scoops her up. In fact the sudden lift is validating in its own way. Archer had always taken it upon himself to scoop and lift and prop her up whenever he felt like it. The feeling is familiar in its own way, and somewhat soothing. Once they both settle into the couch, she reaches up to cup his face in her palm.]
Hey, [she speaks softly] thanks.
[The warmth and solidity of his body makes everything feel real — helps her feel grounded.]
no subject
For a moment, he isn't sure what to say. It's one thing to get thanked for passing the hot sauce; it's another to receive it when Tohsaka seems to truly want it to mean something. He struggles to meet that level of sincerity—dredging up the emotions that make it feel real is an exercise not much different than digging into the earth in hopes of reviving a fossil.
In the end, he nods, cocking his head. ]
Mm. It's nothing.
[ That much feels sincere to him. It doesn't really feel like she's asking for much, nor is he doing much to fulfill her requests. If this is all it takes to help her feel a little better, he doesn't mind at all. ]