[open] mourning becomes her

[ohmaiden]

Here, in the kitchen, sits a morose-looking young woman, dressed in black. She sits, sipping tea silently

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[rob_fellows]

Here's an old friend who's just as queered up as usual. His sauntering gait is paused when he notices Iphi's stance.

"Ohay there lovely - who sat on your kitten?"

[ohmaiden]

She looks at him sadly. "Oh, hello," she says softly.

[rob_fellows]

"Hey hey hey...." he wanders over and offers her a hug.

[ohmaiden]

She accepts the hug, silently.

[rob_fellows]

Robin hugs her tight, like the old friend, former lover, familiar, comforting figure that he can be.

He's silent for now.

[ohmaiden]

After a moment, she speaks.

"I don't know what to do."

[rob_fellows]

"What about, kiddo?" He's rocks her, a little.

[ohmaiden]

"Just--" She kind of just--sobs, for a moment.

[rob_fellows]

Robin caresses her hair, softly, reassuringly. "Hush hush kiddo, one word at a time," he tells her, still hugging and clearly going nowhere.

[ohmaiden]

"...He's dead," she chokes out, shuddering.

[rob_fellows]

"Who is, kiddo?" He's still there, and will be there as long as it takes.

[ohmaiden]

"You know. The one--the one I wasn't supposed to like," she gasps.

[rob_fellows]

... "Who, Wickham?" He's carefully keeping opinion out of his voice.

Inwardly, HE REALLY WANTS TO KNOW HOW.

[ohmaiden]

She nods, burying her face in his shirt.

[rob_fellows]

.... "Oh, Kitty...." he'll rock her a soothingly as he can.

[ohmaiden]

"I saw him die--it was terrible--"