[Felicia harbors no suspicions of hugs, so she keeps gently rubbing PM's shoulder in what she hopes is a soothing gesture. She's reminded of the time Gaunt tried to console her by squeezing her own augmetic shoulder, and how ridiculous that experience was, but she keeps at this anyway.]
People are never eager to talk with each other about this sort of thing, even if talking is the most sensible thing to do. Even if it would spare all involved from more pain.
[she pauses, the recalls what else there is to address and continues, a bit awkwardly (Omnissiah help her, this feelings stuff is so fucking hard):]
—Er, and of course you haven't done anything wrong. Something was bound to give eventually. And with everything out in the open, one can begin to sort it out rationally.