[ The reassuring squeeze brings him conflict: troubled that he fails to conceal these deeper emotions, but hesitantly hopeful -- and he daren't even acknowledge it as anything but a knot in his chest -- that she seems to care enough to offer him comfort.

He merely shrugs his too delicate shoulders in response to the spoiling comment and gathers the small tray holding the soup, spoon and napkin as she steadies herself. ]

Alas, no cure-all, but a pinch of cinnamon. [ He sets the tray upon her lap and retakes his seat beside the bed, flattening his skirts beneath him like a natural. ] If you think yourself able to tolerate something more substantial, the bread and jam should compliment it nicely.