"Dedue was always so good at focusing on the important things," Dimitri murmurs, unable to help himself as he leans against Grant just slightly... and attempts to pull Claude a little closer along with him. He takes in a deep, wet breath. "I shall endeavor, as always, to follow his example."

His room feels a little less empty than Dedue's had been, no longer a reminder of what he feels is a failure. It's well used, and warm, and his Pokemon all make sure to stay close while gently pulling his cloak away. The smell of chamomile tea helps clear his head a little bit, and the warmth of it going down his throat makes him feel a little more.... centered.

Not as much as being inbetween Grant and Claude, however, their touch helping soothe him from the lows of panic and self loathing. It leaves him with just some exhaustion, and a slight ache behind his eye.

Desta seems to calm down as well, although she never leaves Dimitri's lap. Instead, she hides behind his arms, burrows against his shirt, and only peeks up for a small sip of warm milk and a small nibble of a poffin. She can't even finish the entire thing; she's still far too small.

Dimitri makes a promise to himself to take good care of her... until Dedue comes back.

And he tells himself that they'll see each other again soon, one day. They have to.