dilseachd:

            ❝No, nach bhfuil tú.❞

                The grim besmirching his countenance came as a result of the
                purity of his own stupidity, and as such, it’s his belief that blame
                lies solely on his shoulders. Her agitation, however touching,
                hardly benefits the both of them. ❝Know how t’ Sandy Row boys
                ge’. Loyalists, t’ lot’a ‘em. ‘s my fault, y’know.❞

 His words earn gelid expression thrown in his direction, the facade
only attenuated by her concern for him. It was in his nature to let the
burden and blame fall solely on his shoulders, but not hers. However
a huff of acceptance leaves her and while it brings her no joy to abandon
her quest for retribution for him she will. Settling beside him, the dilapidated
mattress compressing beneath her added weight; she rests a hand on
his shoulders. A meager attempt at comfort, but she fears that anything
else might cause him unnecessary pain.
                                 ❝An bhfuil aon ní de dhíth ort?❞