[Roxas draws in a deep and quiet breath, shoulders tensing just slightly at the sudden contact. Roxas isn't so used to physicality from other people; it may be way he had gotten sick in the first place. Still, the sickness is receding. He relaxes not a moment later, though his eyes travel, unsure.]
It's okay. ...Thanks for helping me out. [He presses a palm against his forehead. He's not completely better just yet.] They really weren't kidding.
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It's okay. ...Thanks for helping me out. [He presses a palm against his forehead. He's not completely better just yet.] They really weren't kidding.