[Eventually, he physically cannot cry any longer. His head hurts, his throat is sore, and his eyes have dried up. His sobs fade into hiccuped gasps and sniffs. The shaking of his shoulders settles back into the exhausted, ever-present tremble that's characteristic of withdrawal.
Jesse becomes aware, at some point, that he's curled up against her but he must have long out-stayed his welcome, now that all he's doing is trying to breathe steadily. He picks up his head and slowly eases back, retreating to a more comfortable distance.]
[And she eases back as well, disentangles herself from him and goes over to her bag. She picks it up, opens it, pulls a kleenex out - blots some of the moisture off her shoulder. But for once she does so without judgment or condemnation or displeasure; her gestures are just matter-of-fact. Doing what has to be done without recrimination.
Then she pulls out a few aspirin, tips them into her palm and holds them out to him. As she does, she asks - ]
[She nods, and disappears at once into the kitchen. About a minute elapses, and then there's a beeping, and then she emerges once again: in her hand is a mug, filled with warm milk, scented with a bit of vanilla and cinnamon, sweetened with just a little sugar. She hands it to him gingerly.]
Careful. It's a bit hot. I guess maybe that mug wasn't microwave-safe.
[His hands are cold, anyway, so he hardly notices the heat. He's already swallowed his aspirin. Now he takes a tentative sip. The way his hands shake, it's a little difficult to hold the mug, but he manages.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Jesse becomes aware, at some point, that he's curled up against her but he must have long out-stayed his welcome, now that all he's doing is trying to breathe steadily. He picks up his head and slowly eases back, retreating to a more comfortable distance.]
no subject
Then she pulls out a few aspirin, tips them into her palm and holds them out to him. As she does, she asks - ]
Do you have any milk?
no subject
Um... I think so.
no subject
Careful. It's a bit hot. I guess maybe that mug wasn't microwave-safe.
no subject
...Thanks.
no subject
It's what my mom used to do for me.
[And then she realizes what she said, and immediately scowls at him:]
Not that I have cried or will ever cry.