The mean length of stay for the treatment of burns is
WHO: Open
WHEN: 19 May-25th May
WHERE: Florence Memorial Hospital, Room 304
WHAT: Hospital Visiting Hours
[OOC: This is basically for anyone who wants to visit Sindre while he's in the hospital, as the other thread was getting...long. Just post with your date and time of visit as you start a new run of threads~]
( 8.9 days )
WHEN: 19 May-25th May
WHERE: Florence Memorial Hospital, Room 304
WHAT: Hospital Visiting Hours
[OOC: This is basically for anyone who wants to visit Sindre while he's in the hospital, as the other thread was getting...long. Just post with your date and time of visit as you start a new run of threads~]
( 8.9 days )
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As Berwald settled next to him, Sindre looked him over with a critical eye. Berwald still looked worn down. His face seemed a bit narrower as well.
"You don't have to come see me every day," he admonished. "Have you been eating? Sleeping?"
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"I like seeing ya, t' make sure..." he shrugged. "Just like seing ya," he repeated more decisively. "How're ya feeling t'day?" he added, giving Sindre a worried once over, not that he could really see any obvious changes.
Most of the bandaging was still there, except a few places on his face that had had only mild burns or abrasions from the bookshelf that had fallen on him, and which had been judged not to need covering up. Selfishly, Berwald wished they had been anyway, because he found it difficult to look at Sindre's face and not find his gaze drawn to the reddened patches of skin...
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He quickly turned his attention to Berwald's question. "I'm feeling like I want to get out of here," he groused. He didn't have a specific hatred of hospitals, but all this time spent doing nothing made him antsy. He didn't have the time or the inclination to just sit around.
He looked at Berwald wistfully. "Willing to help a jailbreak?"
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His eyes widened when Berwald's offer hit home, slightly surprised. "You don't have to do that," Sindre insisted. "It would be helpful, yes, but you don't have to go out of your way to do anything else for me."
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"I wouldn't b' going out 'f my way," Berwald protested quietly. "Actually I... I still 've trouble sleeping, too," he mumbled, barely audibly. Normally, he wouldn't have admitted it (the previous time notwithstanding the previous time when his defenses had just been blown away due to the circumstances) however, in a rare flash of insight, Berwald had realized that Sindre would find it easier to accept the offer if he could think of it as something he was doing for Berwald. He ignored the part of himself that was remarking it was mostly for his own selfish desires. Sindre had said it would be helpful himself, and he wasn't the sort to exaggerate his own needs, quite the opposite.
"And I'd really like t' help," Berwald had to add in an attempt to drown out his guilty thoughts.
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"I really would like it if you moved in," he continued. "It would be most appreciated. Especially..." he hedged. "I would understand if you don't want to, I can find someone else, but..." he glanced at his bandages. "Most of these I can't get to on my own, and I'd truly rather Valdi didn't have to see them."
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"'f course I will." And he would, no matter how unpleasant it might be. At least then he could personally make sure the wounds were healing like they should.
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Glancing at the thick book, he examined his bookmark's location. "I'm not far along at all," he acknowledged. He didn't typically have much trouble reading in Swedish. But between the drugs, his own fatigue, and his lack of focus, he was having difficulty slogging through the language.
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He started to read aloud, taking care to pronounce the words correctly. Berwald's dark voice took them to a grim world of crime, a tangled web of international corporate trickery, dark family secrets and abuse of power. Not exactly pleasant reading, but at least it wasn't the hospital room.
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