Daniel's thoughts give Armand enough distance from it to blink his tears away, to pull himself away from the raw edge of it all. He looks down at his hands, at Daniel's hand, ropy and knuckly with age, and the glassy points of his fingernails.

"Mm," he hums quiet agreement, leans into their points of contact, pleased by Daniel's agreement. Rubs his thumb up alongside the flower in his pocket. "You have.. hang ups."