Cruxius didn't demand an immediate answer. He didn't push her to say the words back.
He just reached for the tray, picking up the silver spoon again. He scooped a small portion of the steaming soup and patiently brought it back to her lips.
His other hand moved beneath the covers, resting a warm, heavy palm flat against the bare skin of her thigh. The simple touch grounded her scattered mind, the heat seeping into her sore muscles, a silent promise that he was staying right here.
Ytrisia hesitated. Her plump lips stayed parted but unmoving, her wide eyes mapping his face like she was still terrified he would vanish into smoke the second she blinked.
"Easy, alright?" he murmured, his thumb stroking a soothing circle into her thigh. "No talking. Just eat."
She blinked slowly, a fresh tear escaping, before she leaned forward. She allowed the cool metal of the spoon to slip past her lips.
