Only thing I semi-know how to cook is the kibble I made for us before. You could make me oatmeal and I'd appreciate it.

[ He presses a kiss to her temple, to her cheek, and James fits his hand against the cheek un-kissed. ]

You need to rest, though. I can stay and change your bandages again?

[ There's hurt and resurfaced anger in those brown eyes as James reflects on Bela's branding. The conversational detour was both necessary as well as nice, yet he doesn't want to overwhelm her. ]