Help in any real sense, anyway. It's not an unfamiliar feeling for her, let us be honest, there are a lot of things in life that are much bigger than what her efforts can handle for all that she feels weirdly responsible to try and handle, which-- doesn't make it better, when it comes to someone she cares about. It is purely out of respect, and maybe some selfish fear that Wolfgang would withdraw from her all the more if he knew, that Benji does not simply call Dr. Vanessza Bernát without asking, which could be unpracticed and bad instinct. It's a good thing that Wolfgang re-emerges when he does, or she might have anyway, just out of an effort to feel a little less powerless.
She knows if she says anything right away, it will be because she is upset and she is upset because she is worried, and that's not actually a reason why Wolfgang should want to help himself. Instead, Benji goes out, because they need food anyway, and comes back with an eclectic mix of necessities, some baking things like flour and dried fruits, brown sugar and English...-style biscuit. Dark denim practically painted onto skinny legs, and light wool that goes down to her knees, all navy and grey, appears around the corner of the kitchen, and she doesn't say anything at first -- things get set down clumsy on the counter rather than put away as usual.
The scrape of scrubbing brush is at an uncomfortable crescendo, but it feels patronising to physically interfere. She finds a place to lean, watching, maybe hoping for eye contact judging by the tip of her head.
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Help in any real sense, anyway. It's not an unfamiliar feeling for her, let us be honest, there are a lot of things in life that are much bigger than what her efforts can handle for all that she feels weirdly responsible to try and handle, which-- doesn't make it better, when it comes to someone she cares about. It is purely out of respect, and maybe some selfish fear that Wolfgang would withdraw from her all the more if he knew, that Benji does not simply call Dr. Vanessza Bernát without asking, which could be unpracticed and bad instinct. It's a good thing that Wolfgang re-emerges when he does, or she might have anyway, just out of an effort to feel a little less powerless.
She knows if she says anything right away, it will be because she is upset and she is upset because she is worried, and that's not actually a reason why Wolfgang should want to help himself. Instead, Benji goes out, because they need food anyway, and comes back with an eclectic mix of necessities, some baking things like flour and dried fruits, brown sugar and English...-style biscuit. Dark denim practically painted onto skinny legs, and light wool that goes down to her knees, all navy and grey, appears around the corner of the kitchen, and she doesn't say anything at first -- things get set down clumsy on the counter rather than put away as usual.
The scrape of scrubbing brush is at an uncomfortable crescendo, but it feels patronising to physically interfere. She finds a place to lean, watching, maybe hoping for eye contact judging by the tip of her head.