He had to laugh, quiet as it came out. She had mentioned it, and he'd breezed right by it in the relief that she was alright. He could only imagine, after a couple of days, just how hungry she actually was, and it was probably an impressive thing that she was thinking about anything else.

"Did I mention," he countered, playfulness creeping into his smile, "that your friend mentioned you like blueberry pancakes?" Which, over the course of the time she'd been passed out, he'd figured out how to make. Definitely not well, barely more than edible, but that was a few steps better than he'd had before. "What d'you say?"

He absolutely was not going to invite her to come sit at the kitchen table, to let him take care of her there. She ought to stay in bed and relax. But at the same time, now that she'd come around and was looking a little more alive, if a little more thinned out than he liked, he was loathe to leave her side.