Such high praise, [Vergil says with a slight wrinkle of his nose. But even with his light deflection, Vergil knows it's sincere from Nero after the months he spent reading Vergil's books in secret and relying on a dictionary to help him grasp at the meaning. Not to say a dictionary can't be of some use, but Nero doesn't have to then potentially start looking up words used as part of the definition. And a dictionary lacks the ability to place it into context that will make the meaning truly stick the way Vergil can. Vergil sets aside his glass of water once he's done with it, and settles back into reading alongside Nero.]
[The little disruptions slow Vergil's reading down a bit as he must pause in his reading to either provide the definitions or help Nero reason his way through it, but he hardly minds it any more than he does when Nero ends up wiggling his way into a different position. If anything, the disruptions are helpful in their own way as Vergil comes to realize that the shortness of breath is apparently not the only bit of fatigue he's liable to experience throughout the course of this illness. It's a strange and foreign experience, but his eyes begin to feel increasingly fatigued with reading words on a page. The little breaks to explain something to Nero provides him with the opportunity to take a break and prolong his ability to read for just a little bit longer.]
[What's doing him less favors, however, is Nero's nearby warmth and weight.]
[Vergil fights against it for as long as he can. When he doesn't have Nero as a distraction, he opts to look away from the page, refocus his eyes elsewhere for a moment before returning to reread the paragraph again. He slows his pace down considerably, trying to make the words stick in his mind and grasp at their meaning. But there's only so much fight he can put up. Vergil eventually sinks a little further into the couch during some of Nero's fidgeting into another position, more reclined than he was before. Rereading a paragraph becomes rereading a sentence, a word as drowsiness has him blinking in and out of consciousness.]
[There's a light thump as his grip on his book loosens to near total release, the novel falling onto his chest. But Vergil does not so much as stir let alone suddenly jerk awake over it dropping.]
[So, it turns out that under the right circumstances Vergil may, in fact, nap after all.]
no subject
[The little disruptions slow Vergil's reading down a bit as he must pause in his reading to either provide the definitions or help Nero reason his way through it, but he hardly minds it any more than he does when Nero ends up wiggling his way into a different position. If anything, the disruptions are helpful in their own way as Vergil comes to realize that the shortness of breath is apparently not the only bit of fatigue he's liable to experience throughout the course of this illness. It's a strange and foreign experience, but his eyes begin to feel increasingly fatigued with reading words on a page. The little breaks to explain something to Nero provides him with the opportunity to take a break and prolong his ability to read for just a little bit longer.]
[What's doing him less favors, however, is Nero's nearby warmth and weight.]
[Vergil fights against it for as long as he can. When he doesn't have Nero as a distraction, he opts to look away from the page, refocus his eyes elsewhere for a moment before returning to reread the paragraph again. He slows his pace down considerably, trying to make the words stick in his mind and grasp at their meaning. But there's only so much fight he can put up. Vergil eventually sinks a little further into the couch during some of Nero's fidgeting into another position, more reclined than he was before. Rereading a paragraph becomes rereading a sentence, a word as drowsiness has him blinking in and out of consciousness.]
[There's a light thump as his grip on his book loosens to near total release, the novel falling onto his chest. But Vergil does not so much as stir let alone suddenly jerk awake over it dropping.]
[So, it turns out that under the right circumstances Vergil may, in fact, nap after all.]