"No. Don't thank me, Emme," he breathed into her hair as he held her close, his hand tracing circles on her back. "You can't thank me for doing what I have to do. You're my friend. This is me being your shoulder."

And, leaning back, he pulled her more comfortably against him, tugging one of the throws from the back of the couch and settling it over his friend as best he could given their current positions. Her head was resting against his shoulder as he settled himself into the corner of the couch, his eyes watching the flames of the fire.

"My mum told me when I was little, when my pet parakeet died, that when someone you love dies that they only really die when you stop remembering them and talking about them. That the best thing we can do for one we love is to remember them with a smile instead of a tear."