Work Text:
I wait until it feels as though the flood of words has turned into a trickle. Darcy came over half an hour ago, using their key and lying on my sofa spilling their grey thoughts out into my cosy living room.
They need this sometimes, it seems. They aren't here for validation or because Tara doesn't listen. They just need to download it.
I stroke their hair as their breathing slows and the words falter.
“Sometimes it’s ok for the cloud to look bigger than the silver lining, chicken,” I say.
They look up at me, and we breathe together.