Who: Oliver and Edwin Where: Edwin's Room When: Morning
For the second day in a row, at least thus far, Oliver made his way through the house like a massive, limping ghost. He'd woken up around the usual time, though he wasn't sure if it was the pain in his arm that had finally done it, or his internal clock, but thankfully Edwin didn't stir as he made his way out of bed. His mood was at least better than the day before, even if the cast surrounding most of his hand and his entire forearm threatened that constantly. It almost glowed an ethereal white that screamed "hey look, I'm injured", and he doubted that he'd be able to keep Edwin from noticing, even if he was as out of sorts today as he'd been the day before. Using the bathroom was even more of an exercise than it had been when the hand was just broken and wrapped, and dressing was so much of a pain in the ass that he momentarily considered foregoing a shirt entirely until he pulled on a button down that was easy to slide on. He didn't bother to fasten it, fairly sure he couldn't on his own at the moment anyway, and slipped out of the room and down the stairs in an indelicate hobble.
He did feel a bit better physically now that Cecilia had taken a look at him, particularly his foot and his knee. He was grateful that the dogs seemed to sense that wandering off today wasn't going to be a good plan for anyone, and they stuck by him as they trotted out the front door to do their business, then back again. Oliver was fairly sure that it was really only Hedi heeling like she normally did, and Charlie simply sniffing along behind her, but he'd take it.
The idea of having to make his way back down the stairs to get breakfast caused him to detour at the kitchen. One-handed, it took twice as long to scrounge up a couple of leftover cinnamon rolls and some orange slices onto one place. He eyeballed the coffeemaker, but was fairly certain that trying to juggle one mug, let alone two, wasn't plausible. He tucked two bottles of water under his arm, ignoring the chill, then headed back toward Edwin's room.
Of course, actually getting back into the room provided another set of difficulties. He grunted softly as he tried to use the edge of the cast to turn the doorknob, and ignored the two hopeful sets of puppy eyes as they watched him work. It took about twenty full seconds, but he did finally get the door back open, nudging it gently with his toe so the pups could trot in before him. He'd moved the small table closer to Edwin's side of the bed the day before for easy access, and after nudging the door carefully shut again he headed towards it with their bounty. Unsurprisingly, his gaze honed in on the bruised face on the pillow, then away to the cast on his arm, eyeballing the color of the skin visible around the edge. No discoloration. Good.
"You actually sleepin' still, or tryin' out that elfy meditation hoo-hah?" Oliver didn't entirely feel like teasing at the moment, but getting Edwin up on a good note really just helped them both. The question came out quietly enough that it might not disturb the man if he was asleep, but Oliver figured the chances of that were about fifty-fifty.