Micah cried.
He cried so hard it hurt. His whole body shook with each sob, as if all the pain he had buried deep inside had finally poured out. His fingers twisted tightly into Clyde's coat, his face buried in the soft fabric. Sobs echoed in the room, raw and unfiltered, sounding like a child who had finally given up pretending to be brave.
Clyde held him silently.
His arms were firm around Micah. He didn't shush him. Didn't offer empty words. Just stayed there, steady and warm.
Micah's tears eventually slowed. The trembling in his shoulders lessened until all that remained were soft hiccups and occasional sniffs. His face was wet and flushed, and when he finally became aware of just how loudly he had sobbed, embarrassment rushed in like a crashing wave.
