[She comes over with an obviously Avante bedspread nevertheless, and drapes it unceremoniously over him--remembers the soup at the last minute and pulls back from going completely over him, letting it go around his waist instead]
...Try to finish that off. Gotta feed a cold, I think.
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Mm, you prefer grape or cherry?
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[Busy pulling a mound of blankets over himself.]
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Cold medicine. Crack that baby open, 'kay? Should help you sound less like warmed-over death.
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[He takes a swig from the bottle - makes a face, and takes another.]
...this stuff's gross, dude.
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[Comes over with a bowl of miso soup, still steaming; offers it in exchange for the bottle]
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Man, you really went all out.
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'S not the fancy kind or nothing. Not that it won't do the job.
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Looks pretty awesome to me, fancy or no.
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[Sets the cold medicine just outside the fort and heads back out to check on tea]
That enough blankets? I brought an extra, in case.
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...s'good.
I'll take that blanket, too, if you got it.
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[She comes over with an obviously Avante bedspread nevertheless, and drapes it unceremoniously over him--remembers the soup at the last minute and pulls back from going completely over him, letting it go around his waist instead]
...Try to finish that off. Gotta feed a cold, I think.
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[He takes another sip of soup, careful.]
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Give it a bit, see how it goes. 'Course you're gonna be cold if you keep squirming around.
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[He takes another sip, both hands cupped around the bowl for the heat. His eyes are glazed over a bit more than before.]
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[She putters around a bit longer before poking her head back in, their thermoses from before hooked on her finger.]
...Man, you really look like shit.
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Just tired, is all.
[He looks tired, too. More tired even than he usually looks, these days, and that's saying something.]
[He does take another sip of the soup, though.]
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[Pauses, shifting her weight]
You feel like lying down, let me know.
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[He blinks at the soup in his hands - sares blankly for a long couple of seconds, before he takes another sip.]
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...how bout you, you gonna eat?
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[Sips at the soup.]
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[Settles near the entrance with her lunchbox, since of course she'd taken them along with all the other crap]
...Guess you wouldn't notice how bland this stuff tastes, at least.
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I don't mind sharing.
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[Mugs at him and nudges against (what she's pretty sure is) his leg buried under the covers, comfortable]
'Sides, there's plenty, so don't sweat it. ...Unless you're 'sposed to sweat a cold. Probably should've looked that up.
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