She shrugged smoothly and laid back down, looking up at the ceiling. "Certain people might keep quiet about their pain for the sake of stoicism. While I do appreciate the sentiment, in your situation it would be a hindrance."
"I would rather not die. Appearing cool is in second." He chuckled quietly. His laugh was smooth, yet gravelly.
She turned to look over at him, her brow furrowed in thought. "Well, that's good," she said. "It's good that being cool isn't in your priorities. It makes a lot of sense actually. Explains a lot." She leaned over and stage whispered to him. "I'm implying that you're not cool, in case you didn't get it."
"Oh, yeah. I'm laughing, can't you tell? Am I not laughing hard enough for you?" he questioned, moving his arm to rest at his side.
She frowned and cocked her head, her curls acting as a pillow for her on the floor. "What's going on?" she asked, traces of concern in her voice.
She squinted at him, and the hint of a smile appeared on her face. "I can't tell if you're grumpy, sarcastic, or tired, and I'm trying to figure it out."
She smiled to herself and turned to look back at the ceiling. She squinted up at the stars and pointed. "That's Orion," she said softly, searching the heavens above. "See it?"
She settled back and shook her head, amused. "Don't worry about it," she said. "It's not a big deal." She was quiet for a while, her eyes scanning the skies until her eyelids drooped with tiredness.
He continued watching the sky, eyebrows furrowed. After a bit he decided to give up and shut his eyes, trying for sleep.
Poppy had gradually shifted until she laid on her side, her body curled and compact. Her hand was under her head and she nodded off to sleep. "Night Francis.." she murmured sleepily.
