The air is thick with an unspoken ‘I told you so,’ and Sousuke doesn’t appreciate it one bit.
“Sdop doin dat,” he says thickly, his words slurred by his stuffed nose.
Makoto lifts an eyebrow at him. “Stop doing what?”
“Sdop makin’ dat face. I ged id, you were rightd. Sdop lookin’ so damnd smug.”
“Oh.” Makoto smiles, looking back down at the cloth he’s wringing of water. He shakes the last stray droplets from it, folds it in half a couple times, and leans over to rest it over Sousuke’s forehead. The throb in his temples immediately lessens, but his sour attitude holds firm. “Sorry.”
“No you’re nod,” Sousuke grumbles, and earns a laugh in response.
“I did warn you. You’re always so stubborn about not bundling up.”
“Do you need more blankets?”
“Fined?” Makoto repeats, smiling insufferably.
Sousuke glowers up at him. “I said, I’m fine-d. Fined. Fine-d.” Makoto turns away to hide his laugh, making Sousuke glower more. “Fugg you.”