“Okay,” comes automatically, but then he tacks on, “I'm still a little tired, though I feel good.” That's somewhat better, at least.

His hands reach to grab the edges of the blanket, momentarily opening so he can free his arms before he retucks them, shivering faintly despite the warmth. Sizhui smiles again at the sound of Jiang Cheng's light laughter, an amused little snicker passing his own lips when the man confirms what he'd mentioned earlier.

Again, he lifts a hand, lets his fingertips drift across the soft skin of Jiang Cheng's wrist. “Good, I want you to keep them. Think about me every now and then when you're... leisurely pacing.” For God's sake, Sizhui, please.