For a moment, Cisco's quiet. Eyes closed, leaning into Hartley and he just takes in the presence of his boyfriend. Solid and whole and real and here.
Hartley may feel like he comes up short in this particular department, and maybe in a lot of ways he does. He isn't exactly built to comfort, he's not wired to hand out meaningless 'it'll be okay''s when he knows the opposite is true. But the reality, the lack of dumb platitudes that people hand out when they have nothing else left to say because they know nothing they say can change anything...that's it's own comfort, in a way. He may not be conventionally comforting, in the way most people tend to think of, but Hartley has his own way of it and it's a way Cisco's used to, leans on a lot more these days because he'll take the honesty over meaningless cliches.
But this also wasn't exactly what he meant. Not the broadstrokes, the generalizations of the situation. And after a moment he pulls back, not to separate from him but to look at Hartley, shaking his head, "No, but-- this, it's different... this-- Dante doesn't have to be dead." The words said so plainly out of his own mouth make his stomach twist. "It could-- Barry could fix it. He could save him and he won't." All the anger and grief twisted together again, burning through his chest.
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Hartley may feel like he comes up short in this particular department, and maybe in a lot of ways he does. He isn't exactly built to comfort, he's not wired to hand out meaningless 'it'll be okay''s when he knows the opposite is true. But the reality, the lack of dumb platitudes that people hand out when they have nothing else left to say because they know nothing they say can change anything...that's it's own comfort, in a way. He may not be conventionally comforting, in the way most people tend to think of, but Hartley has his own way of it and it's a way Cisco's used to, leans on a lot more these days because he'll take the honesty over meaningless cliches.
But this also wasn't exactly what he meant. Not the broadstrokes, the generalizations of the situation. And after a moment he pulls back, not to separate from him but to look at Hartley, shaking his head, "No, but-- this, it's different... this-- Dante doesn't have to be dead." The words said so plainly out of his own mouth make his stomach twist. "It could-- Barry could fix it. He could save him and he won't." All the anger and grief twisted together again, burning through his chest.