He held her like her mom used to when she was little girl in this life after she had a bad dream. Then her mom died and she met this man she had only seen a couple times in her life...her dad. She was six years old, only three more than when she had died as Kissa. She feels safe and protected with his arms encircling her. Her sobs lessen, but she doesn't move to break his embrace. She blinks when he kisses the top of her head, only the realizing that his shoulder and the crook of his neck is wet with tears. She blushes from straight to the tips of her ears again. "I'm sorry," she says with another sniffle.