Giving him an apologetic look, Ginger moved her hand to his arm, not giving help, but it was there if the need arose. “I know darling,” she said quietly, feeling bad for him. Every potion had been useless, every potion had done no good; but she couldn’t give up, for his sake.
As she helped him grasp the potion, sitting up, she turned to grab a towel from the tray. He was sweating rather profusely and the rag was quite cool. Turning back around to dab his forehead, she didn’t turn to find him scowling as he forced the vile potion down his throat, but instead a strange look on his face.
Head tilting, Ginger gave him a confused look, and ‘what’ was about out of her lips when he spoke. Shoulders dropping, hand dropping to her lap, for a moment she was put back, he didn’t really- catching his gaze, oh there was definitely truth shining there. Swallowing heavy, she gave him a forced laugh and moved to dap his head with the rag anyway, avoiding his gaze again. “You’re fever is breaking, I’m sure in the morning you’ll rue you even thought the words, hm?” She said in the most pleasant teasing tone she could.
“Now come on love, lay back, drink that potion for me.” Ginger finished easily, though her mind was whirling. Terence Higgs didn’t say those words- and for that matter didn’t feel them. That broke his rules, his game. It had to have just been the fever- after all he’d been saying a lot of strange things lately… but none of them untruthful proclamations…. No it was just his fever, it had to be.