"I'll stop fidgeting if you stop fussing," George said wearily, with perhaps a bit more bite than he'd intended. He felt badly about snapping at Gin, but he was so tired and his head was still spinning - he couldn't tell if it were from the blood loss or the fact that he was slowly coming down from the adrenaline high he'd reached during the fight. Whatever the reason, he just wanted to curl up somewhere, preferably his own bed at his and Fred's flat, but this sofa would do just nicely.
He tried to be patient as Ginny inspected him, fighting the drooping of his eyelids and the urge to just keel over into the cushions. "It doesn't hurt so much as it burns...it's a weird kind of tingling feeling really."