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It's not often that the weight of the world feels too much, but every once in a while… it catches up to him. Zenyatta considers himself to be remarkably grounded despite the state of the world, the state of his people, the state of the rest of the monastery's residents. Things have been heating up over the last few months, tensions between Mondatta and Ramattra and a handful of others slowly rising.
He can't think about it anymore. Not tonight. If an omnic possesses a soul, can that soul then float out of the omnic's body? It feels like he might find out.
A touch on his wrist drags him closer to the present.
"Too much?" Ramattra says simply, sitting next to him in the hidden alcove of the higher balconies.
Silently, Zenyatta just nods. This is not the first time he has been in need of assistance.
Ramattra lets go of him for just a moment, just long enough to get up to his knees to easier scoot his meditation cushion up against Zenyatta's. A makeshift bed, showered in the relative warmth of the Himalayan sunshine. Ramattra gestures for Zenyatta to lie down, and he does so immediately. A high whine escapes his synth before he's even registered it.
"Patience," Ramattra says, gentle and fond, as he fixes his robes. Once satisfied, he lies on top of the smaller omnic, chest to chest, bracketing his head with his arms and the curtain of ribbon cables on his head.
Zenyatta's hands snake upwards, cautiously wrapping as far around his torso as he can, urging Ramattra to settle his full weight. The first time, he was hesitant– afraid to crush him, but now, he wastes no time in getting comfortable.
As Zenyatta tucks his head into the crook of Ramattra's neck, he knows he won't have to worry about his soul leaving him any time soon. The weight of the world is nothing compared to the comfortable, welcoming and all consuming weight of his companion.