[ Onni's hands feel so cool and wonderful against his skin, and Reynir leans into the touch just a little, without even meaning to, when Onni tucks the sweaty hair away from his face. Later, when he's feeling better, he is going to be embarrassed by this. By how pathetic he had let himself be, by forcing Onni to take care of him. He might be younger, but he's not a kid.
But he's too tired for now, and when Onni tells him he can sleep, it's only a few moments later that he slips back to sleep, though he at least makes the effort to move closer to the table and drape himself across it, forehead resting against the cool surface, hidden under the hood of Onni's cloak.
He has no idea how long it's been when Onni is touching his shoulder, waking him up. It feels like no time at all, except that when he opens his mouth to say thank you, all that emerges is a raspy squeak. Somehow, in that small space of time, his voice has just - vanished. Reynir clears his throat, tries again: ]
Thank you.
[ Again, the words are hoarse, barely audible. Reynir touches his fingers to his throat, his Adam's apple, swallowing, which... hurts a lot more than he'd expected it to. But he sits up straight, pushing the hood back off his head, not even caring what a mess his hair must be. Reluctantly, he touches the cloak around his shoulders, and manages: ]
Do you- want it back?
[ The words really are only just comprehensible, and saying them leaves his throat stinging. The little bowl of soup in front of him smells amazing, and Reynir inhales deeply, reaching for a spoon. Everything in his head feels too bright and strange and distorted and he wants to close his eyes again, but Onni had worked so hard on the stew... ]
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But he's too tired for now, and when Onni tells him he can sleep, it's only a few moments later that he slips back to sleep, though he at least makes the effort to move closer to the table and drape himself across it, forehead resting against the cool surface, hidden under the hood of Onni's cloak.
He has no idea how long it's been when Onni is touching his shoulder, waking him up. It feels like no time at all, except that when he opens his mouth to say thank you, all that emerges is a raspy squeak. Somehow, in that small space of time, his voice has just - vanished. Reynir clears his throat, tries again: ]
Thank you.
[ Again, the words are hoarse, barely audible. Reynir touches his fingers to his throat, his Adam's apple, swallowing, which... hurts a lot more than he'd expected it to. But he sits up straight, pushing the hood back off his head, not even caring what a mess his hair must be. Reluctantly, he touches the cloak around his shoulders, and manages: ]
Do you- want it back?
[ The words really are only just comprehensible, and saying them leaves his throat stinging. The little bowl of soup in front of him smells amazing, and Reynir inhales deeply, reaching for a spoon. Everything in his head feels too bright and strange and distorted and he wants to close his eyes again, but Onni had worked so hard on the stew... ]