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After briefly chatting with Freya over groanspring, Herryk powered down his laptop and closed the top. Lid? Herryk didn't know. Computers were still pretty confusing to the draugr.

He'd asked her when he should stop by to help her pack. Freya had said now, and so here he was. Making sure that his poofs were secured and fed, Herryk straightened his cape and made his way to the Reaper dorms.

He hadn't seen Freya since settling her after the field trip. He'd missed her and yet Herryk was reluctant to bother her due to her weakened state. He knew she needed rest and relaxation and the draugr wanted to give her enough time to heal before stopping by for a visit.

Herryk had also had much to think about after his conversation with Hel.

Freya had wanted him to bring her things, and so Herryk made a quick pit-stop at a little shop. He bought four different types of spookies, six small bags of candies of various types, a few packaged cupcakes and two different kinds of crackers. Herryk didn't really need to eat, and so he wasn't sure what Freya would like.

From the shop it didn't take long for Herryk to reach Freya's dorm room. With a hearty knock at the door, Herryk reached for the doorknob and let himself in, clutching the hefty sack of junk food in one wide hand.

Herryk narrowed his eyes at the slapping and smashing of the keyboard. Easing closer, Herryk held out the bag of goodies in Freya's direction before leaning in to plop a kiss on her forehead. He didn't want to linger too close for too long -- it was obvious to Herryk that Freya was hopped up on something. Probably the painkillers she'd been given to take in order to ease the discomfort of the gash on her stomach.

"Of course Herryk is here," he grunted, pulling back. At least she was happy. That was good, even if it was a drug-induced happiness. He shook his head and moved to open the bag that contained all the sugary crap he'd brought. "Herryk is here and he brought things, just like Freya wanted." That's what good boilfriends did, right? He was really going to have to get advice from someone about this, and soon.

"Freya," Herryk reached out to grab the bag and the mangled cupcake that Freya held in her hand. "These are not for ... for smushing." Maybe this hadn't been the best of times to come over. "It is for eating, Freya, and ... tch, never mind ladybird." He shook his head and moved the bag of goodies far, far away from Freya's position on the bed. She would undoubtedly appreciate the snacks when she was a little more... lucid.

"Now," he began, as obviously a change in topic was direly needed, "where are Freya's bags?"

Exhaling loudly, Herryk opened up one package of crackers. Removing one single cracker from the bag, Herryk turned to offer it to Freya with an outstretched arm only to find that she was under her covers. Completely.

"Freeeeya~" Herryk sing-songed. "Herryk does not think Freya sleeps with her bags." One single black brow lifted as he reached forward to make an attempt at tugging down the blanket. "There would be no more room for Freya in the bed, Herryk thinks."

"Now, Herryk will give Freya this cracker if Freya tells Herryk where her luggage is." That was a fair trade. Herryk was pretty proud of himself for coming up with the idea.

Herryk was perplexed beyond explanation. He'd seen the color drain from her face and it didn't make any sense to him. Was it because he'd called her ladybird? No, it couldn't have been. Herryk called her ladybird just as she called him a baby boil. They were just nicknames, weren't they?

When she looked up at him so profoundly sad, Herryk wasn't sure what to do. He had a suspicion that this had something to do with the field trip, but he didn't know what. Stupidly he'd just kind of hoped that they could put the field trip behind them, and right now he was feeling utterly foolish that the thought had even crossed his mind. They would never be able to put that ordeal behind them completely.

Upset at himself, Herryk rested the cracker with the rest of the junk food he'd brought along with him.

"Freya," Herryk said softly, moving to sit next to her on the bed. "What is wrong?"

A strange stillness came over Herryk. He wanted to roll his eyes and scoff at her, even ridicule her for thinking for one stupid, silly moment that he might consider her fat. Fat? Hah. And yet as much as he wanted to do all of these things, as much as his first instinct told him to laugh directly in her face at such an insane question, Herryk paused. Their relationship was tenuously young. Freya was not feeling well. What would a good boilfriend do?

Herryk had no idea, so the next best thing would be to speak frankly. This called for some face-to-face action, and so Herryk quietly rose from the bed and turned before kneeling at the side of it. He merely stared at her for a long, long time as if contemplating what he should say.

And suddenly there was word-vomit.

"Herryk does not think Freya is fat. Herryk thinks Freya is perfect. Even if Freya was fat, Herryk would still think that she is perfect because Freya is Freya on the inside and this means that Freya is always beautiful on the outside no matter how fat or skinny Freya is not like it even matters because Freya is perfect to Herryk just the way she is now and always." Okay, that went well. Maybe he should start listing all the ways she was perfect.

Excellent idea, Herryk.

"Freya has pretty, soft hair that Herryk likes to touch and she has clear skin that is the prettiest thing that Herryk has ever seen. Freya's eyes are so ... blue, and her... her wings are so big and very ...feathery and Herryk likes them. As for Freya's shape, there is nothing -- NOTHING -- about Freya's form that Herryk finds out of place. Freya is perfect from the top of her pretty head," he pointed to the general area before gesturing at her feet, "to the tips of her pretty toes."

Take notes, Thor, Herryk thought to himself. This is how it is done. He was pretty good at being a boilfriend. No, he was probably the best boilfriend that ever was. Feeling pleased with himself, Herryk beamed at Freya.

Herryk felt the tears and he sighed softly. Had he messed up? Had he said something wrong? It wasn't until he heard the quiet whisper of Freya's voice that he pulled away so that he could look into Freya's eyes. With the pad of his thumb he wiped away the tears that fell down her cheeks, a soft smile on his lips.

Pushing away from the bed, Herryk reached for the entire bag of snacks.

"Freya can squish all the cupcakes she wants," he said fondly. Quite frankly it didn't matter to him if she smeared them all over everything. As long as she was smiling while she did it, that's all that mattered to Herryk. He returned to his kneeling position next to the bed, chin cupped in his palm as he watched Freya.

Herryk flashed Freya a charming grin before making a 'nom-nom-nom' noise as he chomped down on the cookie that Freya offered. He was in a pretty good mood and it was obvious by the playful gleam in his eyes. Honestly, he would be content to just sit there watching her get crumbs all over the bed, but he had come to her room with a purpose.

...maybe he'd just sit here for a little while longer.

"Herryk will pack in a while," he snagged another cooking from the bag, tossing it in his mouth. Herryk watched her quietly as he chewed, opening his mouth to speak only after he'd swallowed.

"How long will Freya be gone?" He asked conversationally, reaching for another cookie. As if he didn't already know how long she'd be gone. He felt kind of bad for fibbing (even though he hadn't really fibbed yet), but in his heart he felt that it was best for Freya.