[Ignis frowns slightly at the cough, displeased with how severe it sounds already. He offers Noct a careful squeeze around his shoulders, a show of reassurance and, he hopes, comfort.]
I suppose it does. Six preserve us, we might as well drink poison.
[ noctis just takes the squeeze as invitation enough to scoot himself closer, tucking up against ignis' warmth. it'd be easy to fall asleep like this, honestly -- the fever has sapped the strength right out of him, and being snuggled up like this is enough to make him feel warm and safe. there's a part of him that wants to fight it, for some fear that this closeness won't last until the morning, but his eyes are already impossibly heavy. ]
Hmm... guess that leaves... the healing powers of fast food?
[Ignis, naturally, has neither the heart nor desire to tell Noct to remove himself-- even if this does mean it's exponentially more likely that he'll wake up sick, himself. Once more, he strokes Noct's hair back from his face, his gaze moving up to the pitched ceiling of their tent as he lets out a low, withered sigh.]
I suppose it's better than the alternative. [Even if it's a nutritional disaster.] We have to eat something. It's fine, every once in awhile.
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... well, I guess that leaves Prompto in charge of the cooking, huh?
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I suppose it does. Six preserve us, we might as well drink poison.
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Hmm... guess that leaves... the healing powers of fast food?
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I suppose it's better than the alternative. [Even if it's a nutritional disaster.] We have to eat something. It's fine, every once in awhile.