As Xylon pressed his forehead against her shoulder, he could feel the warmth of her body and the faint tremors coursing through her frame.
Her body continued to tremble atop his, her turmoil evident in every shivering breath.
Sensing her ongoing distress, Xylon extended his arms, his hands carefully finding their way to her long, dark hair cascading down her back.
He didn't pat or stroke her hair; instead, he simply touched it, his fingertips making contact with the strands.
As his hand gently made contact with her hair, a wave of warmth washed over Eva. She tore her gaze away from the void, her eyes now fixated on Xylon's body, which leaned against her as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Even as Xylon allowed her the space to cry, Eva found herself unable to let her tears fall.
Seeking connection, she raised her arm, intending to run her fingers through Xylon's long, dark hair.