[ The feeling of Sylvain's hand running up and down her back is soothing, but it isn't enough to dispel the pain she feels in her heart. It's silly to chastise herself for not knowing about this until now, but the sentiment is still there, stretching across the silence that settles between them.

The hint of disgust doesn't go unnoticed. Hilda shifts up to her elbow again to look at him. ]

You're upset at yourself for reacting, aren't you?

[ There's no judgement in her voice. Rather, there's something sad and heavy there as if everything she wants to say to him to try and dispel those awful voices are trying to get out. ]

There's nothing to blame yourself for, Sylvain. That's so scary. What you experienced as a child was scary — of course it's going to stick with you. [ 'No one would blame you for reacting like that,' is on the tip of her tongue but she recalls his dismissal of what she had said earlier. Remembers how the people in his life have apparently told him that what he's doing isn't enough. ] Claude doesn't blame you for that or thinks any less of you for it.

[ Despite not having spoken to him about it, Hilda knew she could say that with certainty. ]

I don't think any of less of you either.

[ Not that that has any weight for him, she thinks. But maybe it would provide him some proof, some further evidence that she cared and thought highly of him too. ]