kafkaesque: having a nightmarishly complex, bizarre, or illogical quality.
She really didn’t know what to say, it wasn’t everyday she was trying to console someone especially when she barely knew them. Sophia had never been in a position like this before. In attempt to bring him some comfort, Sophia gently laced her fingers with his, giving a subtle squeeze. It was all she could think of at the time and she all she hoped was that it came across in the right way. “I don’t have to.” The brunette shook her head form side to side, looking up at his eyes that were tightly shut. “I want to.”
As small hands intertwined their fingers with his rough ones, he shut his eyes. He might have been two seconds away from yelling at her, but instead he held his tongue. Sometimes, he needed to learn that not everyone wanted to screw him over. She looked like a nice girl, and it would have been a shame if he were to just let her go. “I… I don’t know what to say.” He said, voice hoarse. “You’re– you’re quite the girl.” And he meant that in the best way possible. Rarely did he ever show affection, so he lay there awkwardly, her hands in his, tears sneaking past his countenance like escaping inmates.