It's a good thing that Riddle doesn't wait for a response, because one look at Cater and it's clear he wasn't going to get one. It looks like Cater fell directly into bed as soon as he reached it, the way he's sprawled across it with his legs dangling over the edge, shoes on. The older teen is fully asleep, face red. Just as Riddle had expected, it looks like a fever has begun to truly set in.
The noise of the door and the tray does ultimately cause Cater to stir, and he groans, disoriented.
All the proof he needed was right there, in the way Cater was out, having not even removed his shoes before flopping down into his bed. Shifting over, Riddle sets the tray down on Cater's nightstand. Moving over to where Cater's legs hang off the bed, Riddle kneels down, his hand coming up to one of his shoes.
"Yes," Riddle confirms, "It took me a bit longer than I would have liked. I apologize for the wait." 'Already' made it sound like Cater didn't seem to realize how much time had passed...
He really had gotten him sick. That much was obvious.
Careful fingers work on undoing the laces of Cater's shoe, slower than Cater himself might be. It wasn't something he was used to helping another with. More, he usually had help with his own.
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The noise of the door and the tray does ultimately cause Cater to stir, and he groans, disoriented.
"Done already?"
It had to have only been, like, ten minutes?
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"Yes," Riddle confirms, "It took me a bit longer than I would have liked. I apologize for the wait." 'Already' made it sound like Cater didn't seem to realize how much time had passed...
He really had gotten him sick. That much was obvious.
Careful fingers work on undoing the laces of Cater's shoe, slower than Cater himself might be. It wasn't something he was used to helping another with. More, he usually had help with his own.