Merlin would have appreciated the sympathy had his vision not been too unfocused for him to see Eddie's expression at that moment. He kept his knees drawn up tight to his chest, as though that would help, recurled up on the couch and hold his head in his hands tight as though the pressure from the outside would balance out the medieval torture implement style squeezing on the inside.
It didn't.
He winched at the sound of Eddie going through the drawers, wishing not for the first time that his curse didn't make him so fucking sensitive to every thing, although just not making his head feel as delicate as an elderflower jelly souffle would be nice, and yes, he'd be looking into his use of metaphor too as soon as he could see.
He wanted to warn Eddie about the Days of Christmas present, but that little bit of information seemed to have bled out of his ears with both the rest of his senses and anything that could block pain.