Zev threads a hand through Nova's hair, stroking gently. 

Nova hums quietly, shifts slightly so he's pressed closer to Zev, head turning into Zev's hand slightly.

Zev strokes a thumb along Nova's jaw, continuing to stroke his hair. 

He's just hoping he helps, even a little, to keep Nova resting.

Well, he's fairly successful at that.

Aaren comes back in, an hour later, carrying a tray with three steaming bowls.

He looks between Zev and Nova. "We can reheat his when he wakes up," he says quietly, putting the tray down. "But I think he'd want you to eat." He holds one of the bowls out.

“Thanks.” He takes a bowl, holding it carefully over Nova’s shoulder. 

He eats very slowly, making sure each spoonful will settle in his stomach before the next one. He gets through maybe a quarter of the soup before he can’t eat anymore. He holds the bowl a little awkwardly, not wanting to shift Nova just so he can reach the table. 

Aaren's eaten a little faster, and moves one of the end tables so that it's in easier reach, takes the bowl off Zev, and puts it down on that.

Nova stirs, still sleepy, but starting to wake up.

Zev, now his hands are free, goes back to stroking Nova’s hair.

"Mm?" Nova hums.

“There’s soup if you’re hungry, mi alma.”

He isn't, not really. (Not any more than he normally is, than he's used to.)

But Zev'll worry if he doesn't eat. He-

He pushes himself upright, a little reluctantly, wondering when his head ended up in Zev's lap.

Zev lets him sit up. Once’s he’s settled, Zev hands him a bowl. 

He lies down, his head in Nova’s lap. Maybe the swapped position will make Nova laugh. 

It doesn't quite get a laugh, but it gets a tiny smile, and the momentary brushing of Nova's hand over his hair before he makes himself eat.

He’ll take that. 

He cuddles into Nova, wrapping a hand under his knee. 

Nova doesn't manage to eat much more than Zev, tries to force himself to keep eating-

"If you've had enough, it's okay," Aaren says. "You can make yourself ill eating too much."

Zev sits up, ready to take the bowl from Nova if he has to. 

“Don’t force yourself if you don’t want it.”

Nova makes a quiet, lost sound. It's not that he doesn't want it, it's that he can't and-

He stares at the bowl in his hands.

Zev drops his head onto Nova’s shoulder, one hand sliding on top of his. 

“It’s okay. It’s okay.”

"It'll be there later if you want it, or there'll be something else."

"M'sorry," Nova mumbles, half moving to set the bowl aside.

"There is nothing to be sorry for."

Once Nova has a hand free, Zev takes it, tangles their fingers and brings them to his chest.

Nova leans into him, not sure what to do now.