O-oh. Oh dear. Aziraphale looks a bit pained at her reaction, frozen for a moment, not sure what to do. Did he say the wrong thing again? No - no, this is a good thing. Sort of. He's touched her. That's all.
Poor dear, he wants to say, but manages not to. Instead he steps out of his chair a bit awkwardly and kneels before her, picking up her hands again. He gives them a gentle squeeze and peers up at her, undaunted by her quiet sobs and her crumpled face.
"There, there," he murmurs. "It's all right." Is this a good place for a hug? He's just not sure. He sort of shifts back a bit, making room if she, say, wanted to sink down into his arms. He doesn't make a habit of being so overtly affectionate (handholding doesn't entirely count, in his book), but... this is rather a special case, isn't it?
"You're all right," he reiterates, just a little firmer.
He resists the twinging part of him that says look at what a good job you're doing. This is about her.
no subject
Poor dear, he wants to say, but manages not to. Instead he steps out of his chair a bit awkwardly and kneels before her, picking up her hands again. He gives them a gentle squeeze and peers up at her, undaunted by her quiet sobs and her crumpled face.
"There, there," he murmurs. "It's all right." Is this a good place for a hug? He's just not sure. He sort of shifts back a bit, making room if she, say, wanted to sink down into his arms. He doesn't make a habit of being so overtly affectionate (handholding doesn't entirely count, in his book), but... this is rather a special case, isn't it?
"You're all right," he reiterates, just a little firmer.
He resists the twinging part of him that says look at what a good job you're doing. This is about her.