[ she presses the backs of her fingers to his face, cheeks and forehead, checking his temperature. ]

You're warm, too. I can feel it. We ate, drank the same things — whatever affected me will affect you too, it's inevitable.

[ but she sighs then through her nose, the amusement in her features softening, because despite how she teases him, how antagonistic she can be with him, and he with her — above all else she harbors an affection for him that refuses to be ignored, and certainly won't be when she's like this. ]

It's alright, [ she says, her voice lowering to a murmur, cupping his warm cheek in her hand as she nods, reassuringly.

morpheus keeps a tight rein on his control at all times, while she's more reckless by nature; experiencing this must be far more disconcerting for him than it is for herself.

her thumb strokes downward, brushing lightly against the seam of his lips as she whispers. ]

It's alright.