Lemm doesn't rush. His hand comes to rest, just feather-light, against their shoulder. He doesn't know what's under the fabric, the extent of what's been done, so he errs on the side of caution.
"Here... Best if you sit, I think. Down. Slowly, mind."
He'll guide them down with his hand, if they'll let him.
"I'm sorry," he tells them. "Shouldn't have spoken to you that way." How unpleasantly familiar.
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Lemm doesn't rush. His hand comes to rest, just feather-light, against their shoulder. He doesn't know what's under the fabric, the extent of what's been done, so he errs on the side of caution.
"Here... Best if you sit, I think. Down. Slowly, mind."
He'll guide them down with his hand, if they'll let him.
"I'm sorry," he tells them. "Shouldn't have spoken to you that way." How unpleasantly familiar.