[He’s rubbing his fingers at his temple, eyes closed in the wake of that exchange. It’s funny how even that moment of relief, that dissipating tension, has left him feeling just as tired — though this time, at least it’s less harried and more relaxed.

And when Stephen opens his eyes again, there stands Thancred, offering him a fresh glass of amber liquid, his hand gripping at his shoulder.]

I—

[He finds himself stumbling over his words in that moment. Breath guttering out in pleasant surprise—he was never much of a touchy-feely person, but he finds he does not mind the contact—and this feels… Well, embarrassed isn’t the right word. Oddly self-conscious, warm around his cheekbones.]

I was never really good at that. [He takes the glass, fingers curling around the glass and lingering, meeting his friend's gaze.] You know. Not trying to solve every problem thrown my way. An old girlfriend always said it was a flaw of mine.