#(^:

eliza  lazily  reaches  for  ben’s  hand,  squeezing  it  and  whispering,    “i  think  danny’s  dead.”    the  suspicion  is  confirmed  with  a  groan  and  grunt  from  a  half-conscious  danny  -  eliza  chuckles  softly  as  she  moves  to  rest  her  head  on  ben’s  shoulder,  eyes  only  partially  focused  on  the  glowing  television  ahead  of  them.    “you  doin’  okay,  baby?”

          — Hold me for a while, will you?

      The question catches him off-guard. Had Lucius been looking in his direction, the likelihood of him making eye contact in an attempt to hold his gaze would have certainly been high. Fortunately for him, it would seem as though the moment he had managed to glance over, Lucius had long since adverted his gaze. Wise, he thinks; to guard one’s feelings in times of great sorrow. Though he’s sure the man’s forlorn exterior and downcast gaze weren’t exactly a calculated decision.

     But how to respond — he doesn’t know. He can’t recall a time in his life where someone sought him out for comfort. Consoling someone for any number of reasons — …. He’s not exactly sure how. Granted, Lucius has made the answer quite obvious by making such a straightforward request — he can't help but feel tested to an extent.

As if there's always some sort of ulterior motive, his own experience with loss is perhaps the only thing that allows him to think otherwise. Guilt and regret — anguish and heartache. Those are feelings he knows all too well. Allowing his fingers to unlace and his hands to drop to his sides — his expression is unreadable as he finally responds.