[ Apparently, Sylvain had gone and gotten himself sick. It's not particularly surprising, with the changing weather, the long hours, and the physical demands of his new role. Whatever he had seemed to be spreading too, people struck with a sudden cold and chills. Waves of dizziness and disorientation.

It almost feels like there might be more to it.

But for now, Claude is clear headed and comfortable on Sylvain's couch, legs tossed over one of the armrests. ]

You know, I don't know if binging Selling Summer until 4 in the morning counts as getting rest.

[ His attention is on his phone, though he glances up to see what Sylvain is up to. ]

You've really gotta learn to relax.