The shift in her aura was like watching a wave break; light should've been a flare, but that word was too warm for the harsh muddle of emotion Sam saw. This---whatever one wanted to label the feeling, feelings---was a sputter of something cold and dark, to be shaken off, to some extent, and otherwise worn away.
“Ah, fuck. C'mon, c'mere. I'm sorry.” Once she finished speaking, Sam drew Joyce into another hug, this one almost as insistent as the first, but a bit gentler. “I'm sorry you've been through such shit, and I'm sorry for going on at you, and I'm sorry for imposing but lemme say thanks for putting me up before I get to the important bit.”
She gave Joyce one more squeeze before she stepped back, this time keeping her hands on her shoulders, all sincerity since this was what mattered. “D'you want to fill me in now, or later? What'd be easier on you?”
this poor lady
“Ah, fuck. C'mon, c'mere. I'm sorry.” Once she finished speaking, Sam drew Joyce into another hug, this one almost as insistent as the first, but a bit gentler. “I'm sorry you've been through such shit, and I'm sorry for going on at you, and I'm sorry for imposing but lemme say thanks for putting me up before I get to the important bit.”
She gave Joyce one more squeeze before she stepped back, this time keeping her hands on her shoulders, all sincerity since this was what mattered. “D'you want to fill me in now, or later? What'd be easier on you?”