sam evans ( werewolf ) . (tamest) wrote in light_of_may, |
Sam felt ridiculous. Pathetic and small and weak. As those sensations, those feelings with such stark and clear names attached, flashed through his mind each one of them seemed to check itself off with a certain kind of conviction as if they were the sorts of things he should feel. That didn't help. If anything it made Sam feel worse but even so his breathing continued to steady and slow, the air was reaching his lungs now and even though his face was still wet with tears the shaking was easing as well. The worst of the physical symptoms were lessening, thank goodness. Not being able to breathe had terrified Sam, rocked him to the core, and now that he could do so again his brain felt like it was kicking back into gear.
His head bowed a little more, close to the ground now where the air was cool and damp from the morning dew that had settled over the grass that was clumped between his fingers, Jo's hand laying over his. When his eyes opened, the motion masked by the messy tumble of his dark hair, he was able to see that connection as well as feel it, the warmth and steadiness of her against his trembling uncertainty. How could she bear to touch him like that? Jo was so much stronger than him, so much more together.
Sam sat on the grass then, rocking until he was seated, the clods of dirt dropping from between his fingers as he withdrew his hand from beneath Jo's, carefully and slowly, not wanting to make her think she had done anything wrong because she hadn't. The fault was his. That hand and the other lifted so he could push his hand from his face, the cleaner one of the two swiping at his cheeks because it was bad enough he'd cried at all, he shouldn't sit there with tears on his face like some sort of silly child. "I--" Sam's voice felt tight, a little strangled. "I didn't mean to wake you. I'm sorry."