You lean against the wall, tired and drained. For a few moments, you don't even feel like you can move, much less get back to the others, not that you would, feeling as you do. The energy has drained out of you completely, slipping from your extremities much too quickly, and as you slide down the wall, you feel particularly hollow. Weightless, even. Funny, you think, that you're the one feeling weightless, as that is usually John's area of expertise, being the Heir of Wind.

You don't laugh.

The tiles below you feel cold and everything hurts, as it has since the moment you found your mother. It was difficult to describe, the feelings coursing through you in that moment; the anger, the desperation, the seemingly endless regret and sadness. What you wouldn't give to have her back, just to let her know... what? Even now, after she is dead and gone, by Jack's hand, you can't think of a single thing you would say to her. You wouldn't even hug her. You couldn't imagine doing that, not even to on of your friends, as that is a level of intimacy you don't feel you can afford safely to anyone.

So then why are you so upset?

You grip your middle, fingers closing around the supple fabric of your god tier clothing. The hood covers your eyes, thankfully, so even if you entertained the idea of letting the moisture that's stinging there overflow, no one would be able to see, unless they looked closely. Not that you would. You haven't cried for years, and you don't intend to do so any time soon, even if you're alone, as you are now.

"Rose?"

Or as you thought you were.

"Rose, what are you doing here, John and Karkat wished for us to stay together," Kanaya's voice, so deliberate and clear in enunciation, reaches you, seemingly, through a haze, and you don't look up at her. You wouldn't be able to see her, anyway, not through your hood, which you refuse to remove, "It was a unanimous decision, actually, and... Rose?"

You would respond, only you don't trust your voice to remain level at the moment. Such emotion as this isn't a thing you're used to, and you especially are not used to controlling said emotion around others, not like Strider; he's the master at this type of thing, and, though you believe he extended the offer out of some strange form of irony, you wish you had taken him up on those "slick and pimpin' poker-face" lessons he told you about once. Even though the idea of actually learning anything from him seems preposterous, and even a little surreal, in a way.

"I do hope you are not feeling under the weather?" Presently, Kanaya is lowering herself to the cool tile floor directly beside you, and you try not to flinch away when her arm brushes against yours. She smells like blood and flowers, an odd combination, though you absolutely do not intend to comment. In your lower peripheral vision, you can see the soft glow she gives off, and you know it would be brighter if this hallway were not dimly lit already. A part of you wishes it were pitch black, just so you could see, again, the extent of her shine. Her current state fascinates you, though, at the moment, you don't really feel up to the task of probing her about it.

"Rose," she continues, and you can tell she's growing nervous in your silence. You would have smiled if you weren't so completely empty at the moment, "I am not very practiced when it comes to comforting people, though I have been told that I am skilled in the art of meddling. If you would like, I can attempt to pry your business from you, but other than such a gesture, all I can offer to perhaps 'cheer' you would be a very awkward pat on the back, and I think we are both against such an occurrence taking place, am I correct?"

"Mm," you give your assent in the form of that hum, and, despite yourself, you feel the corner of your mouth twitch in an almost-smirk. You nearly say more, but decide against it at the last minute, choosing to instead let the silence stretch between the two of you. After a moment, this appears to trouble Kanaya even more, and she continues, though it becomes very apparent almost immediately that she is completely out of her element.

"Come now, Rose, I am sure you can shed some light on this issue of yours, you know I cannot help you unless you do," she pauses, and you don't respond, "Oh shoot, that pun was not at all intended. Not that it would have made you laugh had it been a serious attempt, no, I would never be so mistaken as that, surely not. Um.

"You know," she continues, seemingly grasping at straws, "whenever I was feeling particularly obstinate as a young troll, my lusus would sometimes take me flying for a time, and, while I am not gifted in flying, perhaps I could give you a ride around on my shoulders? I have heard tell of mothers and fathers from earth doing such things from John, though I am unsure if Rose, I am really trying here and I would appreciate if you would attempt to disguise your laughter in a more efficient manner, please."

But you can't, and you have to cover your mouth to hold in the foreign laughter you can feel already bubbling up. This is sweet, what Kanaya is trying to do, but the image of the two of you, running about with you perched on her shoulders and she dashing through the lab, all the while with Karkat, perhaps, shouting for the two of you to stop, tickles you in a way that nothing has in some time. It would never work, anyway, as it sounds like a painfully awkward situation, something more akin to John or Jade's taste, and you think that it's no wonder she heard it from John.

"Please, don't try to contain your hysteria at my expense on my behalf," she says dryly, and you laugh silently a little more, before looking up at her to smile, only able to see her from the neck down because of your hood. Her skin is an elegant snow white, glowing brilliantly in the dim hallway, and you can't help but imagine what it would feel like to the touch. Your smirk becomes more pronounce, and you decide to speak.

"That was a lovely mental image, thank you," you say, still chuckling a little, and you hear her laugh, "and a very nice sentiment. It was a ridiculous suggestion, though, just so you are aware."

"Yes, I thought it might be, but I was at a rather frightening loss for what to say, and I do not think you would appreciate a pat on the shoulder, or a hug, for instance, so I simply said the first thing that came to mind," she pauses for a moment, "It seems to have cheered you slightly, though, and for that, its purpose was met."

"Yes, it appears so," you wipe your eyes, not even attempting to be discreet about it, and she rises, pretending not to notice. Her hand enters your field of vision, and you pull back your hood to see her face, immediately taken aback by how very beautiful she looks, even in this dull light, as you are every time you see her. You hate to be a cliche, but she seems to bring out the romantic in you, especially with the bright red dress she has been sporting ever since you arrived, which she looks absolutely stunning in. She's smiling down at you now-beaming, really, and you take her gloved hand, smiling back as she pulls you up.

"May I have the honour of escorting you to the others?" She asks, and the two of you keep your hands together, fingers entwining as if they have a mind of their own. She even curtsies a little when she says it, and the gesture lifts your spirits immensely. Something peculiar blooms in your chest as the two of you look at each other, and you feel that weightless sensation again. This time, however, you feel full.

"You may."