they flocked to him, cameras glinting, microphones in hand, a flurry off interrogations. it was the part of all of this athletic prowess that he wasn't familiar with; had never grown accustomed to, even though she had breezed through it laughing, with a simple grace, often joking about broccoli in her teeth and later dismissing it all as the media's blustery fickleness.
now they turned to him as she lay unresponsive, finally stable, yet unable to set him at ease, to flash the strength or the smile that made a nation adore her.
carefully he began to speak of her tragedy, and when they inquired about regret he answered only, sometimes, even i forget that she is fragile.
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