[Legolas' hand is warm. Thranduil grips it immediately, deciding the cold isn't worth letting go. His free hand rises to touch the oxygen tube running across his upper lip, then settles gingerly back down.]
A blanket, please.
[Not that he's going to let you walk away to find someone. Nope, you'll have to call out.]
no subject
A blanket, please.
[Not that he's going to let you walk away to find someone. Nope, you'll have to call out.]