Dominic slowly opened his eyes after the younger woman spoke, his mother's coaching on how a gentleman acts in society dictating he make eye contact with those he was talking unless he wanted to be considered rude. He noticed the concern in her eyes but wrote it off as naught but a Healer concerned for the well being if her paitent.
"A week," he murmured, still speaking in low, hushed tones. "Became worse on Sunday. After the game." The shouting at his teammates had done nothing to ease the throbbing. In fact, it had made it worse. His headache had eased a little when Marcus turned up at the hospital and he felt a little of the pressure having to burden his father's illness on his own. (His mother didn't really count - she was even more stressed out than he was).
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