[ He's quiet as Harold examines the photo. Watching close. Grief is a physical thing, he's learned over the years. It lives in the body, in the breath. It has a weight when it's carried, enough that Carver likes to think he can recognize it in other people. And you honor that, he knows, when you can. The dead have earned their rest. ]
You don't have to tell me about it, [ he offers quietly. ] I understand.
no subject
You don't have to tell me about it, [ he offers quietly. ] I understand.