just backstory silliness

[livinginmyglass]

It's no busier than usual, as mornings go, but by noon-- by the time she has seen that all is in order for the day's meals, and spoken to the servants, looked to the usual series of minor household crises and disasters-- her head is pounding and she feels certain her bodice was laced too tight that morning.

She retreats upstairs and sinks down onto the edge of her bed, waving away a serving girl who approaches questioningly. It's fine-- she just needs to catch her breath.

Comments

[inanhour]

"Make sure thou dost live, and bring some small brightness to thy day," he says, now peering in. He smiles at her, hopeful.

[livinginmyglass]

She snorts and smiles back, a little tight at the edges. "Ay, come in, then. I live indeed."

[inanhour]

"Art certain?" Sebastian asks, walking him in and sitting down next to her on the bed. He peers at her, intentionally overdone, but there's real concern to it. "Thou'rt pale."

[livinginmyglass]

She swats at him and says, "Why, 'tis but my ladylike complexion."

After a short moment, though, she concedes, "My head aches."

[inanhour]

Sebastian dodges back, then makes a sympathetic noise.

"Too much thinking," he infers, glancing to a nearby book on her chair. "I can do the reading, if thou wilt let me."

[livinginmyglass]

"Why, 'tis no wonder then thou'rt never troubled with an aching head."

She pinches the bridge of her nose. "No, no-- I have much yet to do, and I doubt not so hast thou--"

[inanhour]

Sebastian ignores the jibe, knowing from experience even an ill Viola can out-wit him.

"Yes, thou wilt be most helpful in thy state, discomfiting all who interact with thee." He stands, picks up the book, and sits. "Either I will follow thee and read, hounding at thy feet, or I shall do it here."

[livinginmyglass]

"I-- ugh." She gives in and droops against him, pressing her face against his shoulder. "Very well, I surrender."

She knows from experience he will be exactly as stubborn as he claims (and also knows, though she will far less readily admit it, that she's glad of the company, particularly as she can feel a tickle in the back of her throat, a sense of vague unwellness threatening to spread.)