"You don't get sick," she objects, immediately, despite the fact that moments ago she'd been sufficiently convinced he was about to be to move her favourite pair of shoes out of the firing line. (Every pair of shoes is her favourite when she's wearing them.) "I've never seen you get sick."
After a moment, she concedes, "Before," because there's only so much point-blank arguing with reality she can do in a day, and she wasn't expecting.
The look he gives her is more than a little heated.
"No, I don't," because he doesn't like it anymore than she does. Considerably less, honestly. "As a matter of fact, there's really only one thing that can MAKE me sick like that."
And the composure resumes as he settles and begins to sit back.
Sort of par for the course with people Ilde spends this much time with, actually. She sorts through a variety of ways she could respond to that, and ultimately settles on the most immediately practical one: "Do you think you're going to be sick again?" very reasonably. "Should I get you something?"
Or, more realistically, have someone else get something.
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no subject
After a moment, she concedes, "Before," because there's only so much point-blank arguing with reality she can do in a day, and she wasn't expecting.
no subject
"No, I don't," because he doesn't like it anymore than she does. Considerably less, honestly. "As a matter of fact, there's really only one thing that can MAKE me sick like that."
And the composure resumes as he settles and begins to sit back.
no subject
Sort of par for the course with people Ilde spends this much time with, actually. She sorts through a variety of ways she could respond to that, and ultimately settles on the most immediately practical one: "Do you think you're going to be sick again?" very reasonably. "Should I get you something?"
Or, more realistically, have someone else get something.