[with a sigh, he pulls himself up some, enough to grab the the quilt folded at the end of the bed and bring it up, drawing it over them both. there. that should be better, and the warmth will soothe him still further as he settles back down, shutting his eyes again.]
[He can't remember the last time he'd been so close to someone. And for it to be with Edmond Dantes, of all people? It sounds closer to a comedic script than something real. Yet here they were, side-by-side, just close enough to hear each other breathe. For better or for worse, they were indeed friends.
After a few seconds of silence, he moves his head so it may rest on Dantes's arm. Just to make himself comfortable enough to sleep.]
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Do you intend to do something stupid so I can scold you? You're more of a masochist than I thought, Dantes.
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[there's a feeling of relaxation on his end, an undercurrent of ease that's not often present.]
...are you cold?
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Just a bit.
[He's not.]
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[with a sigh, he pulls himself up some, enough to grab the the quilt folded at the end of the bed and bring it up, drawing it over them both. there. that should be better, and the warmth will soothe him still further as he settles back down, shutting his eyes again.]
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After a few seconds of silence, he moves his head so it may rest on Dantes's arm. Just to make himself comfortable enough to sleep.]