Whatever she’d expected George was at a loss as he held her for a moment before holding him (a little awkwardly). So things hadn’t improved over night. She hadn’t expected miracles but even O’B gaining consciousness would be a vast improvement over what he was now. He looked sort of pathetic as she stood there.
It was so quiet in there. It was as if no one dared to breathe or make even a single small movement. It was uncomfortable and disturbing. But she held still and rubbed his back until the still heaviness got to her, then she pulled back a bit and looked down at Luke.
He looked so scared and lonely, and she didn’t know what to say to him. Sitting by his uncle’s bedside for hours was admirable but he needed to take care of himself too. Sliding one hand down into his she gave him a slight tug hoping he’d get the hint and get to his feet. She wasn’t going to take him far, just the hallway, somewhere he could talk without disturbing the sleeping red head if he wanted.
“Venez chérie,” she murmured the French coming without a thought to whether or not he’d understand. It was the only way she really knew how to convey emotion in situations like this.