Roger stepped outside for some air, wanting a moment to breathe and think to himself and get away from all the sadness. But it was everywhere. Grief clung fast to him and wouldn't let go.
He turned at the hand on his shoulder, a little surprised that someone had followed him out. He knew from the French it had to be Fleur- unless Will had a bunch of French girls he hadn't known about or something, but Roger was surprised to see her there. He hadn't expected her to come. She probably shouldn't have come. It was better for them both if they just.. left each other alone, moved on. But right now he was so grateful that she was there. "Fleur," was all he could manage, voice rough from holding back so much emotion all day. He realized she must have seen him earlier and for a moment he was embarrassed, but her makeup wasn't as perfect as it usually was and her eyes were red, too.
There was so much he wanted to say to her right then, but he couldn't find a single word. So he didn't say anything. He just reached across the small distance between them and took her hand in his.