[He opens up his mouth to protest, but she's already singing, the glow diffusing the room. It makes him choke up again, but not from the need to cough. By the time she's done, he's not sick anymore, but he has taken the smallest lock of her hair in his fingers and pressed it to his cheek. By the time he's able to talk again, he sounds much, much better.]
...Well. Who knew? The cure for the common is apparently magic hair. You'd make a killing as a nurse, you know.
no subject
...Well. Who knew? The cure for the common is apparently magic hair. You'd make a killing as a nurse, you know.