[ It may not have been the full night of sleep either of them needed, but for the weariness clinging to his bones, he's wide awake and attentive, focused wholly on her and seeing to her needs. It gives him a direct task and purpose, which may be the better thing, in the end. ]
If I don't get to be sorry, neither do you. [ His hand smooths up her neck before folding over her cheek, his thumb running soothingly over her hot, sticky skin. There's nothing chastising in his tone, even if it's firm and assured. Taking care of her isn't a burden. It never has been, and never will be.
He lingers there a moment before he pulls away and slips out of the bed, crossing to the door and opening it soundlessly. He isn't gone but half a minute, and then he's back, a cool washrag in his hands that is immediately set to her forehead and a fresh glass of water set on the nightstand when he returns to the bed. ]
Are you nauseous?
[ Does he need to get her a barf bucket and hold he hair back... ]
no subject
If I don't get to be sorry, neither do you. [ His hand smooths up her neck before folding over her cheek, his thumb running soothingly over her hot, sticky skin. There's nothing chastising in his tone, even if it's firm and assured. Taking care of her isn't a burden. It never has been, and never will be.
He lingers there a moment before he pulls away and slips out of the bed, crossing to the door and opening it soundlessly. He isn't gone but half a minute, and then he's back, a cool washrag in his hands that is immediately set to her forehead and a fresh glass of water set on the nightstand when he returns to the bed. ]
Are you nauseous?
[ Does he need to get her a barf bucket and hold he hair back... ]