"Only if it was a tabloid," he says, with a teensy snort of laughter. "And speculation on how bad the other guy looks." He knows there's no way he looks like he usually does, because he is almost uncomfortably sticky and his whole body still hurts with that low-level ache, slowly fading away. And he can feel the dark circles under his eyes when he rubs at them, trying to get back to some semblance of normal.

He still doesn't have the energy to get up unless he absolutely has to, but he feels kind of guilty for dragging them out here and wasting time lying around in a field. He's not used to needing recovery time, and it's throwing him off. "Sorry."