His gaze fell on the girl in his arms. She enclosed his waist with her own arms, laying her head down against his chest. Lowering his head, he buried his face in her dark hair, eyes slowly half closing. Normally, this sort of thing would freak him out--Sascha wasn't exactly experienced with matters concerning the opposite sex. However, this was different. He wasn't posturing, he wasn't trying to impress. He was simply being himself, offering comfort to the sad eyed girl who looked so utterly alone. He didn't want her to feel that way; he wanted to be able to dispel such feelings. Was that a form of helping her heal? Was he even capable of it?
It didn't matter. They were here together now and she needed somebody. He had never been able to turn away somebody in need. He had never met somebody who looked like they needed a friend more. Reaching up with one hand, he lightly brushed dark strands hair away from her melancholic face. He tucked the hair back and let his fingers slide gently down the curve of her neck before lightly embracing her once more. Slowly, he stroked her arm in soothing motions. A soft smile formed on his lips as she apologized for her body temperature.
"It's all right. It doesn't bother me." He was sure he'd be just fine. He'd always been so healthy himself. He wondered if it was because of his body's natural healing inclination. She wanted to know about his life? Gazing down at her, he thought maybe it wasn't so much his life story she was interested in, but a steady voice. He must be some kind of saint, because that didn't bother him, either. His life was a boring one to begin with.
"There's not much to say..." he said, obliging her. "My parents are nice people. Very average, middle class. I don't have any siblings, but I had friends. I used to listen to a lot of music before this. Now I never seem to have the time..." He let out a soft snort of semi-amusement. "My life was pretty run of the mill until this, honestly."
