He stops, with her, allowing Karen to dictate where they stop and when they start again. He's stuck to her like glue.
"When have I ever complained about a hug from you?" he asks, half joke and half sincere. He's sad for her, he wants to help, but he's probably going to make it worse again. That is his specialty, in any iteration. "You always talked to me before. It didn't matter- I just want you to be okay, Karen." It's a jumble of thoughts, but that's what's most important to him now. That she's relatively safe and has some chance at happiness.
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"When have I ever complained about a hug from you?" he asks, half joke and half sincere. He's sad for her, he wants to help, but he's probably going to make it worse again. That is his specialty, in any iteration. "You always talked to me before. It didn't matter- I just want you to be okay, Karen." It's a jumble of thoughts, but that's what's most important to him now. That she's relatively safe and has some chance at happiness.