[subdued shaking; slight chattering of teeth; can you hear? the quake of something]
O-Oh, hell.
I think I have a cold.
[more swears, indecipherable somethings (this is not right)]
We're at the hospital. Via taxi? Automobiles have updated, haven't they? I think I need to make you dinner, Caspian. Thank you.
[a sneeze, oh good grief!]
Dammit.
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I'll be there in a bit.
[Aaaand, sup, Ed, Lelouch is at the door, game and a thermos of tea in hand.]
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Lelouch's here now. Why, hello there. Isn't he a quick one? Ed straightens up off the bed, gestures for Lelouch to take at seat on it.]
You're equipped.
[He notes, amused.]
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[He hovers instead of taking a seat.] I don't suppose there are any teacups or mugs around?
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They're clean.
[Edmund pulls up a box of half-eaten Turkish Delights.]
Taste, and appreciate.
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He's more generous than usual today, perhaps because of his despair last night. He'll atone for his cruelty to Shirley in this way, perhaps.
He hands Ed a cup, setting his own down on the table to let it cool.] Turkish Delight, was it? [He inquires as he takes one, popping it in his mouth. Surprisingly, it's tasty.]
They're not bad at all.
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[Edmund's got a grin that's smug and proud and delighted and more. Sometimes being young in body reverts him to being young in mind. He likes people with literal good taste. Those who can appreciate the things he does. Lelouch is one of them. He inclines himself at the tea in thanks, holding it steady in a hand as it cools.]
Better than the custard we had the day before?
[It's not so much a question as it is a reaffirmation of the fact in Edmund's mind.]
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Though I'm not very interested in sweets, most of the time.
[Not because he doesn't like them; he does. He just ... doesn't eat them often. In fact, his meals are often sporadic. Most of the time, he doesn't notice when he misses dinner or breakfast or lunch.
But he is tired of pizza.]
The tea ought to be all right to drink. [He swallows the remainder of the candy, sips the tea to wash it down. It's the perfect temperature.]
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[He'll have Lelouch having toothaches in no time. Edmund is not much of a tea drinker. However, he does have the flu so might as well do his sister proud. Susan, Edmund is sure, will encourage hot liquids and bed rest like any good, taught, nurse if she was about.
Edmund takes a sip at the steaming liquid. It's nice. Smooth on the tongue. The sort that doesn't taste like tea even, just, nice, warm. Edmund relaxes against his bed.]
This is rather good. What sort is it?
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Chamomile. It's said to make you a bit sleepy, but it's good for your throat, if it's sore.
[He pauses, eying Edmund a bit suspiciously.] You said you had something of a mishap?
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Edmund takes another sip, sets his cup down. Might as well come out with the truth. It's clear to see white lies are getting him nowhere. He also doesn't see the harm in sharing it with Lelouch.]
I fell into ice. [Edmund thinks he's repeated this story a bit too much than he might like.] That cracked through. Which ended with me falling into a lake.
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...Were you in the water for long? [It explains the chattering teeth, the many blankets. He brings his teacup up to his lips again absently.]
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[Edmund runs his hands up and down the hot cup in idle boredom. It brings relief to a body that had gone too cold for too long, in his mind. He pulls the blanket up closer. Dropping in such cold is never fun. He almost wants to advise Lelouch against it, but he has a feeling he doesn't have to.]
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[How stupid, to fall in a lake. But everyone can be afforded some ridiculous mistakes every now and again. Lelouch is guilty of foolishness himself, sometimes.]
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