"Hey. Hey."

Euna reaches out across the space between them. It's such a small distance, but such a big gap to cross after all. Inside, her brain is unclenching. She lets out a breath she's secretly been holding since the hospital. Her voice is soft, and her hand stretches across the infinite space between her and Cinders. 

She doesn't put that hand on her shoulder. That won't do the job. Pressure sensors would tell Cinders there was a weight there, feed her the exact psi of Euna's fingers as she closed her hand, and suggest possible sensation types that could cause these readouts plus recommended actions for responding to them. But that's not the same as feeling. It's not the same as knowing with your heart what the touch is supposed to mean.

That's why she aims slightly higher, at the base of the neck where real skin and real nerves will tell Cinders what's happening in a way she'll understand without any need for words or training. A hand capable of crushing steel squeezes her lighter than a feather on the scales of the heart.

Euna's smile is warmer and gentler than cream in a cup of cocoa. She understands. She gets it. Maybe more than anybody ever should.

"It's ok," she soothes, "It's ok, all right? Take your time. Take all of the time you need. I promise, no matter what answer you wind up giving, I'll still be here. And I'll still help you, whatever you wind up needing."