The discomfort makes it easier to accept, and the straightforward sincerity grounds him in the present - not entirely, not yet, but enough that he feels a little steadier. Enough that he can release the remnants of stubborn tension with a shuddering breath and settle into the quiet shadows, leaning heavily against the stone.

I've missed you so much. I'm so proud of you. I love you. The words tumble into each other, as if he's used to saying them in a desperate rush.