it’s about holding on (слэш)

“Varric,” Hawke said, cajoling. “You’re trying to distract me. What sort of man are you interested in?”
Varric’s palm slapped down onto the table. “Dammit, Hawke. Big, burly, dark hair, bearded, thinks the blood of his enemies is a fashion statement. Ring any bells?”
There’s a lot to be said for a good distraction when it feels like the end of the world is pressing in. Hawke finds one in Varric’s bed.