"Hey." There's a roughness to her voice, and she carries herself with the barely repressed energy of a woman who knows she ought to be somewhere doing *something*, but can't quite find an outlet for her troubles that don't involve strenuous exercise or... flipping shit. The fingers of her left hand twitch at her sides, and she combs the right through tangled hair. The tv screen is blank, Tess having shut off the news footage earlier. "Would you..." More tugging at her hair. "Would you hold me?"
“Hey,” Loki echoes, soft and uncharacteristically gentle. There is no joking, no teasing. Nothing he can say will make this better, so he doesn’t say a thing past what’s necessary. “Come here.”
He opens his arms to her and pulls her close. Wraps around her and squeezes her tight, turning his head to press lips to that too-red hair. The story of Tess is not necessarily a happy one. There were many hardships before his story intertwined with hers. Afterwards, there were still hardships, some of his own doing and more that he couldn’t help with. This is something he can’t fix, but at least this time he can be here. For once he can help her through, even if it just means he’s there to hold her when she needs it. To offer support and sympathy, and anything else he can manage.