It took him a few moments, the feeling was worse than having bones broken if he had to decide which was worse. The burn, the smell, the everything of it all. Once he stopped and the shuttering calmed he shifted so he could move the bowl to the bedside table. His hair and the cover still hiding his face away.
He was still not wanting to look weak and yet he was. For once so very weak.
The arm vanished back into the blanket as he shifted, those tired eyes peering back at her through it all, Sylvi pushing herself into the blanket with him as he shifted one of his arms to accommodate her.
"Jo," he started taking a breath watching her through his hair and cover. "I don't want you to worry." He added low. "what I mean... its the same. I cant put it in words."
Sylvi calmed mostly from the fear rolling from him. Thorfinn wasn't one to be fearful, but illness was a worse death sentence than being injured. He knew what had happened. He doubted there was anything anyone could do and yet he was more fearful of being ill, the idea of going again.
"...Where is everyone? It's to quiet for this time... whatever time it is." He was used to the sounds of the bar under his feet. A secret she knew, muttered in passing once or twice. He hates the noise, he loves the noise. Its normal, it grates his nerves. Always at war with himself. Tonight he was to sick. "Freya, I was supposed to have a drink with her when the fight stopped Jo. She has my phone." Something he had only ever handed off to Jo when he went to do something he thought would break his life line.
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Date: 2016-12-03 11:34 am (UTC)He was still not wanting to look weak and yet he was. For once so very weak.
The arm vanished back into the blanket as he shifted, those tired eyes peering back at her through it all, Sylvi pushing herself into the blanket with him as he shifted one of his arms to accommodate her.
"Jo," he started taking a breath watching her through his hair and cover. "I don't want you to worry." He added low. "what I mean... its the same. I cant put it in words."
Sylvi calmed mostly from the fear rolling from him. Thorfinn wasn't one to be fearful, but illness was a worse death sentence than being injured. He knew what had happened. He doubted there was anything anyone could do and yet he was more fearful of being ill, the idea of going again.
"...Where is everyone? It's to quiet for this time... whatever time it is." He was used to the sounds of the bar under his feet. A secret she knew, muttered in passing once or twice. He hates the noise, he loves the noise. Its normal, it grates his nerves. Always at war with himself. Tonight he was to sick. "Freya, I was supposed to have a drink with her when the fight stopped Jo. She has my phone." Something he had only ever handed off to Jo when he went to do something he thought would break his life line.