[ He huffs out a self-deprecating sort of laugh, letting his arm fall across his middle. ]
Yeah, well, if it helps, neither did I.
[ He makes a concerted effort to push himself up to a sit, though it’s a little slow going with the way he aches – the familiar, leftover pains of a fever, he knows. At her question, he looks himself over – or more specifically, he glances at his arm, where he remembers her latching on and gripping. Sure enough, a bruise mars his skin, and he rubs at it. ]
no subject
Yeah, well, if it helps, neither did I.
[ He makes a concerted effort to push himself up to a sit, though it’s a little slow going with the way he aches – the familiar, leftover pains of a fever, he knows. At her question, he looks himself over – or more specifically, he glances at his arm, where he remembers her latching on and gripping. Sure enough, a bruise mars his skin, and he rubs at it. ]
I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt.