@bastienfiore​
Bastien, as the middle child of five siblings, had found himself falling into a peacekeeping role practically since birth. A part of that was putting his own anxiety aside and staying calm when someone else was panicking, a skill that he hadn’t needed to use in a while. But seeing Bee, and how fearful she was, he swallowed his own dread as he sat down beside her. “Hey,” he said softly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I know this is terrible. But you’re right, you know. You’re fine. This is going to work out,” he said decisively. “And I know that for a fact, because there’s a princess stuck here with us, and the people in charge here definitely wouldn’t let her die in a wine cellar with a bunch of commoners,” he added, an attempt to lighten the mood.
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Bee didn't really focus on Bas until he pulled her into a half-hug. Gulping, she could feel tiny scrapes of her nails scratching at her throat, which reminded her of how much of a terrible idea that had been. "Hey," she drawled out, attempting a tiny smile at his presence. At least she hadn't ended up in there all alone. She leaned into her friend a little, appreciating the homely feeling he provided her, something that was probably unbeknownst to him altogether. "I... I know," she admitted with a heavy sigh, and although she couldn't be sure of that, she had always been someone far too optimistic to think otherwise. "I just," there was a pause as she tilted her chin up. "I've always hated to feel stuck somewhere," blame her siblings— or Gio's, she'd never learned who did it —for it. "Are you... You aren't hurt, are you?" she asked tentatively.
