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Comforting someone when you needed comforting yourself was such a tender thing

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Comforting someone when you needed comforting yourself was such a tender thing.

Here I was, reassuring Cassie of her own ability when moments before she'd been comforting me after my insides decided to momentarily give up on me. It was ironic really: we were two hurting people trying to heal each other, offering advice that we didn't take ourselves in the hopes that the other might be alright in the end.

I was no stranger to staying strong for the sake of others, and being a shoulder to cry on while I wasn't okay myself, but that wasn't the case with Cassie. I was more than happy with putting her before myself, because she did the same with me. Subconsciously we somehow both placed each other on a pedestal above our own feelings, and when two people both gave and took in equal respects, you ended up with a pretty fair relationship. I gave her the reality checks and advice that she needed, and she was patient about my reluctance to tell her the truth.

I suppose it was easier to reflect care and guidance onto Cassie as opposed to myself, because in my eyes she deserved it more than I did. Cassie had a future ahead of her, a bright and vibrant one which she deserved to live to the fullest, and if I could help her in any way, whether that by be reminding her of facts she should already know or giving her something to hold onto for the tough times to come, I would. She was one of those people - those pure-hearted people who seemed too good for the world and all the pain that it beheld - and I didn't want her to lose her light and get dragged down by all the darkness.

But having her reciprocate the same for me? Having someone put me above their own mental battles and focus solely on me for a few moments when I needed it? I hadn't meant to make her care for me at all, and it was hard enough controlling my own growing feelings, let alone being presented with the possibility of hers. The plan was to help her - not have her help me too. But those fleetingly everlasting moments when she'd had her arms around me felt like for once in my life, someone truly prioritised me, out of their own personal choice and not out of expectation.

I found my gaze trailing back over to hers again, my mind finding it impossible to focus elsewhere for more than a few seconds when she was imbedded into my thoughts anyway. Our hands were still loosely intertwined, my thumb absentmindedly drawing letters on the back of her hand while she looked out towards the murky River Thames.

I, d, o, I spelled out on her soft skin, tearing my gaze away from Cassie but finding my eyes drift back immediately over to her again, n, t, w.

There was a distant sort of look in her hazel eyes ever since I spoke my last words, her expression solemn as her unwavering gaze remained focused on the gentle ripples in the water, a soft sigh slipping through her lips every few moments, a, n, t.

Mindlessly I continued, my conscious somehow unaware of the coherent phrase I was beginning to form on the back of her hand, t, o, f. A barely noticeable blush scattered across her cheeks, the faint pink hue accented by the blue reflection of the bridge lights onto her face, a, l, l.

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