[tucked into bed, sheets and a heavy quilt up to his neck. there's a wobbly stack of books on his nightstand, another taller one leaning against the bed. Sam sneezes, the sudden jerking movement sending used tissues flying. a half empty bowl of chicken noodle soup is perched on the books near his bed, looking like it'll take a dive at the slightest
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[sticks his tongue out, damn near biting it off as he starts to cough again]
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Soup would be great actually. I'm not terribly hungry, but I guess I should be eating...
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[grins. Does Sam look happy? Maybe life's been pretty good lately~]
Soup and reading material it is. I'll drop some by later.
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You going to spill the story behind that goofy grin, twin?
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It's the weather.
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For some reason, I think you're lying...
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Sam, I'm sick, not stupid.
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[call it a hunch~]
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I'm happy for you -- both of you.
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