October
when the night falls on you
& you don't know what to do
& you don't know what to do
He doesn't have a fever, and the shower has washed away whatever clamminess might have remained making Finn feel...good, just as he says.
Watching him light the various lanterns around the room, Tobi heaves herself into as much of a sitting position as she can manage amidst the sea of blankets. "Oh no, of course it's fine. I just..I should have done that for you. Sorry, normally I wake up when you move." Tobi frowns a touch at this realization, wondering what had let her sleep so deeply. Shaking her head slightly—it didn't matter, not right now anyway—she blinks to adjust to the light and peers at Finn. "You look really good." Medically, anyway. There appeared to be a bit of colour in his cheeks, and now that she could see his eyes properly, they didn't look quite so bloodshot.
Reaching out for a yoghurt pot and a granola bar, Tobi begins to spoon out the yoghurt, happily licking it off the granola bar. "Mmm. This is perfect." She hums, indulgently, as if he's just presented her some sort of delicacy on a silver platter, rather than the various easily grabbed leftovers in her kitchen. But she really does mean it, and her sleepy smile says as much.
Watching him light the various lanterns around the room, Tobi heaves herself into as much of a sitting position as she can manage amidst the sea of blankets. "Oh no, of course it's fine. I just..I should have done that for you. Sorry, normally I wake up when you move." Tobi frowns a touch at this realization, wondering what had let her sleep so deeply. Shaking her head slightly—it didn't matter, not right now anyway—she blinks to adjust to the light and peers at Finn. "You look really good." Medically, anyway. There appeared to be a bit of colour in his cheeks, and now that she could see his eyes properly, they didn't look quite so bloodshot.
Reaching out for a yoghurt pot and a granola bar, Tobi begins to spoon out the yoghurt, happily licking it off the granola bar. "Mmm. This is perfect." She hums, indulgently, as if he's just presented her some sort of delicacy on a silver platter, rather than the various easily grabbed leftovers in her kitchen. But she really does mean it, and her sleepy smile says as much.
nothing you confess
could make me love you less
could make me love you less
