let the only sound be the overflow

tired af but

better

He does sit up though, even if new jolts of pain zip through his nerves with every heartbeat, and he takes the water bottle from Kai without a word, just opening it and taking a sip. The cold shocks his mouth and he squeezes his eyes shut with a pained squeak. Yeah. Definitely some broken teeth.

The Eastern goes right over his head in his concentration, but it gets his attention, and the Common is thankfully understood. His eyes keep flickering between the pink glow and Cronus’ mouth. “Just the night.” He answers, though he hasn’t actually checked. He’s just trusting that he didn’t sleep longer than he usually does.

It occurs to him that Meenah hasn’t contacted him yet, and a knot of worry reforms in his gut.

When Cronus wakes up it isn’t a blissfully slow trickle into awareness, consciousness feeling fuzzy around the edges but still somewhat warm. Waking up from a fight like that comes all at once and hits him square in the chest at full tilt, making him bolt upright and gasp. He immediately regrets the decision when many of his injuries reopen, but the pain is almost muted by the feeling in his chest, like he’s been cracked open and someone has taken a circular saw to his guts. Pain pulsates through his nerves, through his bones, and Cronus’ pained growl breaks off into a groan as he doubles over, holding his chest.

He doesn’t immediately recognize his surroundings, but the smell of the place brings Kai to mind and it eases his nerves, if only a little bit. Meenah must have gone off with that fucking demon of course, and Kai the Life Guy was left to scrape Cronus off the roof and carry him to safety. Pathetic.

The next thing he knows, though, there’s movement nearby and he’s snapping to attention at the sound of pain. He tumbles out of the armchair he was curled into and crawls over to the couch as Cronus says his name. He smells blood - the idiot broke open wounds. The seadweller sighs in agitation, but touches the other troll’s cheek and shushes him.

“I’m here. Settle the fuck down, you’re hurting yourself, asshole.” There’s an obvious thread of concern showing through the annoyed tone, and it gentles quickly. “Are you thirsty? I’ll get you water. You lost a lot of...I’ll get water.”

WTF?

“Hey now, let’s not make any decisions we might regret– ow!”

“Don’t insult the merchandise or I might take away your privileges.”

“To be fair, I didn’t call you anything. Just implied that you’ve got a generous derriere that may or may not weigh approximately the same as I do.”

> You pinch his chin between your thumb and finger, maybe wiggle his head a little bit with a cheeky (maybe slightly flirtatious) expression.

“If you have a problem with my fat ass, you don’t have to see it ever again.”

> Float around him and casually pinch his butt instead of taking his hands or anything gay like that, then scoot away in case he decides to get fussy about it.

“Come on. I made food.”

“Did you just call me fat?!”

“You’ve got legs.”

“You don’t even need to put effort into it. I bet you could haul me back without even trying.”

> Float close and reach out to him.