[ Neria sits back in her chair and sips briefly on the tea she has poured for herself, and she gives him a sympathetic look. She can't help the small smile that's there at his joke, even as she scoots her chair over to be closer to him. ]

If today is "not so good", I'm afraid to ask what a terrible day might look like for you.

[ Gloves removed, she reaches for him, lifting a hand to gently touch his forehead. ]

Those can certainly both be symptoms and effects, and they're feeding into one another to make you feel terrible. And you're warm...but that's probably a symptom of the withdrawal.

[ Her hand drifts down to linger at his cheek a moment before withdrawing, though she stays close for whatever he might need. Neria's gaze searches his face but she does not push, not when he is making every accommodation to help himself in front of her. She cannot imagine what he is going through right now, and her hand finds his once more. ]

And you've continued to fight through this for days without a word. I don't know if I could call that stubbornness or dedication.

[ She shakes her head. ]

Possibly both, truth be told.

[ Would she have done any less? More likely, no, and so she cannot truly judge or berate him. They are much alike in that regard. Neria squeezes his hand, eyes meeting his once more. ]

You don't need to eat if it doesn't suit you. I brought it in case you might like to try. You can go at your own pace. I'll be right here, just the same.