Being called Dream pulls Loki up short for a moment, but he quickly forces himself to relax. He knows he’s feeling a bit sensitive after being worried about Hob and having the realization that Hob might have had a bit of a thing for his roommate (even if that was no longer the case). Johanna’s words about him having a type still continue to play over and over in his head.

Once he thinks he has himself under control, he takes a deep breath and steps further into the dim light of the room. “I am sorry to wake you, but your message worried me.” As does Hob’s pallor, but he doesn’t want to concern Hob with any of that. “And yes, I did make you tea. It is not exact, but I found a brew that is quite similar to one my mother used to make for me when I was not well. I thought perhaps it might help.” It has no medicinal properties, but Loki knows that does not always matter.

“I did, and I came over right away. All you ever need do is ask and I will come to you.” His voice is quiet, soft, as he gently sets the tray on the foot of the bed, casting the slightest spell he hopes works to prevent the tray from toppling. He sits himself, perching slightly on the edge of Hob’s bed as he sits up slightly. He makes sure to keep space between them so as not to disturb. “It is fine, you should rest as much as possible. In fact, perhaps I should leave and come back later.”

He doesn’t want to leave, but he does want Hob to sleep.