send “DON’T GO!” and an emoji to see my muse’s reaction to yours:  🌧️ saying it while crying.

The moment his Theta charges into the room openly weeping, the Master spins with an expression of affectionate alarm.  Hers is a sanguine disposition. And maybe there are days she suffers deep gray melancholies, and he must wrap his form around hers and shield her as best he can from herself.  But great tearful displays are an exceptional rarity.  

So it’s with concern and a readiness to slaughter whatever wounded her that he exclaims,

       “Hearts, what is it?” 

      “Darling.  C’mere.  Breathe with me?”

    I’m not going anywhere.  Not for our whole lives.  Tell me what’s wrong.