Oliver's eyes drifted into the inside of the tub, as he pressed his face into Edwin's hair and listened. His hand smoothed carefully over Edwin's shirt at his spine, careful not to do anything that might jar his ribs, even as he considered the smooth, unfamiliar sanctuary at the bottom of the porcelain. He wanted to go there, to drag Edwin in with him and just feel safe for a little while, even if the whole practice was bullshit. He knew it was, but that never stopped him. Even if Edwin could get in and out with help, it wouldn't be the same for him. It wasn't ingrained him him, and if there was a chance he'd hurt his ribs then they shouldn't.
"Then we won't go," he said, feeling distracted, and sad, and foolish. He turned his face away from the tub and further into Edwin's hair, nuzzling a little, pulling as much comfort from that as he could in lieu of his first choice. "We'll watch in here. Set up a comfy spot on the floor by the windows, get some food. Cecilia-" He stopped, his throat closing in on just the mention of her name, and he frowned. "-said you shouldn't drink with what you're on, but we can find somethin' good to share."