"I don't need help. I'm fine now," Shira protested. She looked at the guitar he had laid down on the corridor floor.

Kyle shifted his hand but did not take it from across her back.

"No, please, let me go."

Kyle withdrew. He hadn't met her eyes since he had first peered into her panicking face. Shira looked at his eyes, downturned under slightly wrinkled brows.

"Thanks, though," Shira said softly. Kyle looked up at her. Her cheeks were still wet- she could not resist the urge to dry them. She reeched up toward her cheeks, and gave Kyle a small smile over her sleeve.

His brows furrowed a little less as Shira turned to go.