If Natalia had actually followed through, Hope would've understood. God knows they want to do it to themself enough times over and over again whenever they get like this. But nothing comes, and they sit more comfortably on the ground with their legs folded underneath them, and they keep their head lowered.

"Not what I'm called," they try. They don't feel very funny in the moment, but with tears already rolling down their face and anything more complex buried underneath everything else, they have to take what they can get.