[ He slides pillows and cushions behind Sypha, still stroking her hair. It’s difficult, not to let guilt stab into him at the sight of those bruises on her head. But he’s trying. It’s hardly fair for him to be going about having feelings when she’s the one who went throught all of this shit. ]
Is that an order? [ He asks, leaving only for a moment to retrieve the tray of cake and tea and probably-not-legal medicines and setting it on her lap, climbing back into bed at her side. ]
no subject
Is that an order? [ He asks, leaving only for a moment to retrieve the tray of cake and tea and probably-not-legal medicines and setting it on her lap, climbing back into bed at her side. ]