Comfort: One Character Hugs the Other
Back in the tent, Smile was silent and shivering. His shirt was on the ground, oozing icy water onto the hard-packed dirt. Doll could see every bone along his chest, defined ridges and shadows on creamy flesh. Somewhere out of view, an angry scarlet mark announced itself on that stark white canvas. The shape of the scar was perplexing to Doll—a perfect circle surrounding a cryptic squiggle—but she knew a burn mark when she saw one.
"S'okay, Smile," she said gently, announcing herself to the boy on the bed, "We all 'ave our secrets 'ere."
Upon reaching the foot of the bed, Doll did not set up to her own bunk, but instead plopped down beside Smile and threw her arms around him, pressing her chest against his side. At the moment, she did not care whether or not he felt the faint swell of her chest, usually invisible beneath her loose jacket and tunic. He was so delicate, and so cold; a few beads of water had frozen in his hair, glistening now like diamond chips. Doll squeezed tight, as though she could force her warmth into his tiny, turgid form.
Smile did not yell, or shove her off as he had at the baths, but he did not return the embrace either. "Freckles," he said after almost ten seconds had elapsed, "Would you please get off of me?"
"Yeah," Doll said, smiling into her tentmate's neck because at least he was talking again, "Just...take care of yerself, okay?"
"Sure," Smile muttered, turning towards his pillow, away from Doll as the girl hopped off the cot and scrambled up the ladder.
"G'night, Smile," Doll said, grinning tenderly down at the boy.
Whether he knew it or not, Doll felt sure Smile had been needing that hug for a long time.