He picks up the cup of tea from the table, holds it out for her to take. At the very least, it should warm her up a bit, or even better, make her feel at least a little bit safe.

He shrugs, not really knowing the answer. There isn't a good one, and he doesn't feel like making something up just for the sake of sugar coating it. "You called me."


And that suddenly rings truer than anything else he might've said. She called him.