He wished that there were pockets so he could put his hands in them. Just jam them down deep, until he forgot that he had any for a minute or two. He used to be that guy who loved to hold hands. He would hold his mom's hand (when she was alive), his dad's hand (when he was alive and younger), and most especially, he would hold Julie's hand.

And now he only had the memory of what holding her hand felt like. "No, don't... don't worry about it." Perry swallowed, mouth dry. There was only so much he could, and he stayed silent for awhile, walking ahead of her.

"Do you have someone waiting for you, back home?" His voice surprised even him.