[ After a moment spent stiffly standing in place, the line of Jim's shoulders breaks and he wraps his arms around Chris in a tight hug, hiding in his shoulder, fists tight in that horribly familiar jacket. Jim's never been very good at schooling himself beyond artifice and ego, brittle underneath like a stick man taped together and ready to snap when hit from just the right angle. It's as if a sledgehammer hits home when Chris is moving and alive. He can hold Jim back this time.
The ugly crying bursts out of him in gouts of hiccups, a thin whine loosening somewhere in his chest that whips every shuddering sob past wet lips, loud and angry. The Halls echo with the sound of grieving. ]
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The ugly crying bursts out of him in gouts of hiccups, a thin whine loosening somewhere in his chest that whips every shuddering sob past wet lips, loud and angry. The Halls echo with the sound of grieving. ]