For a moment, standing in front of Terence like she was, Melinda felt small. Vulnerable. The way his touch brushed against her cheek as he tucked her hair back from her face brought that feeling to an almost painful sharpness. She wanted to be mad at him for it, but she couldn't. She could feel his pain as it washed over him and it tugged at her. It always did.
She wanted to say something, but she didn't know what. She wanted to hug him but instead tugged his jacket further around herself -- she wasn't particularly sure he would have appreciated the sentiment. Or maybe she was afraid she was really the one who needed it. She couldn't tell.
"Okay," she said softly, nodding softly as she looked down for a moment. The hair he had taken the time to brush from her face fell stubbornly back into it's place as she did.