#i took over a year off to cut you bitches (manorian shippers) some slack

[lucien-calore]

Dorian: How is he?

Healer: I've done what I can but if the fever doesn't break by tonight...

Dorian: ...He could die?

Chaol: *Opening his eyes* You're scaring the poor thing. Where's your empathy? Where's your tact? Where are your manners?

Dorian: Oh, Chaol. How are you feeling?

Chaol, as he tries to get up from the bed: Close to death, apparently.

Dorian, gently but firmly pushing him back down: You need to rest.

Chaol: What I need is some water and perhaps a little bit more of that lovely worried frown.

Dorian: I think I can manage that.