—a box of tissues shoved into his hands, a ruffle of dark tartan robes, the scent of patchouli and lavender and ginger snaps deep in his nose as he was pulled into a tight-armed hug, something that made him think, wildly, just as well, because his whole body felt like it was ready to explode into tiny shards, just as well something’s here to hold me together, otherwise I’d die. Surely this is what dying feels like.