The grief still clawed at him, despite their mutual hysteria, but Thomas was not remotely offended by the fact that Greta was falling apart as well. He accepted her hand, squeezing as he held onto her to reassure her of-- of what? That everything was alright?

He supposed it was, after a fashion.

Thomas gave them a moment to just attempt to recover, holding onto each other across the table.

"At least it's finally starting to feel like winter again," he said, when he was sure his voice would be a bit more composed.