She looks up when he says her name like that and pulls her lips in a tight line in an effort to keep building tears at bay.

Her words come as a hoarse whisper as he settles next to her, "When do I get to be free of her?" she hesitates at the proffered hand, glancing up at his face, trying to see any hesitation or doubt, anything at all that tells her he's doing this because he thinks he should and not because he thinks he can handle it. Finding nothing all that telling, she carefully threads her fingers through the spaces of his. A light hold, gentle, easily broken free of if he needs to. But close. Palm to palm. Comforting for her, too.

"I don't know how long we can stay..." she admits softly, pressing her cheek to the tops of her knees, face tilted up slightly to look at him. "we don't have to eat here, but our bodies out there- they still need food and rest... but however long we can? Maybe, yeah... maybe it's for the best." Even if it's just a temporary balm on a longer-term issue.