[His grip on his own wrists loosens, just a little bit, his hands falling away to his sides. After a moment, he nods, not smiling but not frowning anymore, either, some of the tension leaching out of his shoulders. He doesn't know if he feels better, but he doesn't feel worse. He feels . . . able to maintain.]
Sorry I made you worry.
[That much is true. It's better than people not thinking about him at all, but not by much.]
spam
Sorry I made you worry.
[That much is true. It's better than people not thinking about him at all, but not by much.]