He tailed her home that night and wouldn't leave her, so she set up a bed for him on the lumpy couch and went to her room to have an absolutely silent panic attack. Or at least as silent as a panic attack is capable of being. If he heard her, he was kind enough to pretend he didn't and he was kind enough to ignore the circles under her eyes from her night of sleepless worry. He was up when she was and trailed her to the cafe to sit with her as she worked. By the third day of his constant, near silent presence (he didn't really speak unless she said something first), she was actually starting to find a weird comfort in him.
Not that she would say anything to him about it, she didn't want to make him uncomfortable and that seemed like the sort of thing that would make him uncomfortable. She
