As he heard her move about the kitchen, he worked on getting his breathing under control. And it really was a horrible invention to be feverish and have to expend energy he didn't have on coughing, when that energy could be put towards much more worthwhile pursuits. Pursuits like sleeping, or getting Nyota back in his bed and snuggling her. But at least she returned to his side and he leaned into the hand caressing his hair. "Not your fault," he whispered, trying not to provoke another round of coughing. "Anyway, I've had worse. I'll live..."