Quentin is never anything less than sincerer, and he tilts his head towards the stairs before trying to get up. Which, fair, is a struggle when he's pretzled up like this and also trying to not brush against Eliot or lean on him too hard when his numb leg gives out.

"Oh-" because yeah, Quentin is not even going to touch the idea of Eliot in bed. Like, in bed in bed and not because he's helping Quentin cope with being a freak even at magic school. "I think I know just what she means? Because they left out so many of the good points, and honestly, I get why but also-"

Talking, right. A distraction as he stumbles across the living room and up the stairs, hands twitching through the tuts for his wards and still, even while getting everything ready and getting in to bed, Quentin keeps up with it. That whole not-thinking.

This is going to be fine. He settles against the headboard and props the computer up, movie already loading.

"And yeah, so. I get why she'd want to talk about it, is all. Are you- comfortable? I think I might have more pillows in the closet."