Memories. Malba didn’t have to say anything beyond this. Under any other circumstances, his response would have been too broad to pinpoint. In this case? Zelos knew exactly what he was speaking of. Even if his words hadn’t given it away, the guilt-addled sound to his voice would have eventually. This wasn’t the first time Malba had been disturbed by a nightmare about it, and he doubted it would be the last.
It wasn’t the first time Zelos had attempted to comfort him over it, either, and he still wasn’t exactly confident that he could. It was hard to find the right things to say and the right way to say them. Honestly… it was still difficult to reflect on the event at all. There was one thing he knew to say, though, and it came out immediately, no holds barred: “Not your fault, Mals.”
Malba’s receptiveness to his touch was a good starting point, and Zelos was determined to take advantage of it. “Come closer?” he cautiously invited, his free hand drawing down to Malba’s waist, prepared to wrap around it so that he could embrace him.