No, this made absolutely no sense. Sloane had only cried once, and that was during their fight over the summer, and at least then there'd been a clear explanation for it. Despite growing up with a little sister and having a friend group comprised of mostly girls since starting Hogwarts, he'd never been good at handling the hysterics. He panicked and had no idea what to say, no way to know what would make everything better. He was used to sitting awkwardly with his friends while they lamented about their latest worries, no words escaping his mouth beyond the occasional joke or hum in solidarity. With Sloane, it was different: he wanted to help solve her problems, but had none of the practicality or understanding of the problem to help her. All he could do is be sad with her.
"Wait, wait," he hushed, his hand slipping from her chin. He would have dropped her wrist, too, but she was so worked up that he could almost guarantee that she would attempt to flee again. He'd always thought she was more of a 'fight' instead of a 'flight' type of girl, but it seemed he'd been wrong. "What changes? What can't you do? It doesn't... I don't..." He looked at her expectantly.
"Wait, wait," he hushed, his hand slipping from her chin. He would have dropped her wrist, too, but she was so worked up that he could almost guarantee that she would attempt to flee again. He'd always thought she was more of a 'fight' instead of a 'flight' type of girl, but it seemed he'd been wrong. "What changes? What can't you do? It doesn't... I don't..." He looked at her expectantly.
