When Persephone can feel his shoulder press against hers, her arm lined up alongside his, pressed to his jacket, she stops straining against it all. It's not relaxing, not really. Relaxing in this place would feel like giving up, just like it wants. Instead, she takes comfort in this touch.

"I'm your girlfriend, I shouldn't laugh at you being hurt." A pause, "You know, unless you did something stupid to yourself. And the wall did that to you. Wall. Or is this a floor? Which way is up?"