He sighed, looking out the window thoughtfully. He didn't look well, the fever symptoms aside. He had dark circles under his eyes and he ran a hand through his hair, frowning. "Everything's okay."
He sighed, taking the tea from her and leaning back against the pillows with a frown. "I don't normally sleep more than a couple hours a night, Mallory. You don't need to worry about me."
"That is exactly why I worry," she informed him, her expression uncertain. "You're sick and you hardly accept my help. Even what you claim is normal is not normal. You're supposed to get more than a few hours."
His brow was furrowed as he considered her, holding the mug of tea. "Why do you care?" he replied after a moment, his voice gruff. "I'm not your concern."
She frowned, her head tilting as she folded her legs. "Because I'm worried about you, dummy. I want you to be okay."
He sighed, taking another sip of the tea. "I am okay," he replied tiredly. "I don't feel comfortable sleeping here anyway."
"Still," she said. "I wish it were different. Is your throat starting to feel any better? The tea had ginseng and honey."
