He buries his face in their hair, almost mirroring their retreat. He keeps his eyes closed, waiting for the waves to stop, stomach churning as relief becomes anxiety becomes comfort becomes despair, until he realizes that those feelings aren't coming from the person in his arms.

He tries to swallow it down but a choked sound escapes him instead. He tries not to start shaking, but his grip on Phalanx only tightens because of it. He tries, he really does, to tell himself that it's okay it's fine it's nothing he should care about, but no one is here to cover his eyes and tell him not to hope that Phalanx doesn't hate him as much as he hates himself.

It isn't until he shifts and his face feels wet and hot that he suddenly remembers to breathe again, and his frenzy begins to slowly settle back down.